HE  AUTOBIOGRAPH 
AN  IRISH  0CT0GENARL4i 


OMNIANA : 

THE   AUTOBIOGRAPHY   OF    AN   IRISH   OCTOGENARIAN 


I'hoti) :  L'tirri-ncr,  Duhlitt. 


\  F  roiUUpiece . 


J.    F.    FULLER,    AGED   OO. 


OMNIANA: 

THE    AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF    AN 
IRISH    OCTOGENARIAN 


J.    F.    FULLER,    F.S.A.,   M.R.I.A.,   &c. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW  YORK 
E.  P.  DUTTON  AND  COMPANY 

681    FIFTH    AVENUE 
1916 


PRINTED    IN   GREAT    BRITAIN    BY 

WILLIAM   CLOWES   AND   SONS,    LIMITED 

LONDON    AND    EECCLES 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING  PAGE 

J.  F.  Fuller,  AGED  55  ..  ..  ..  ..   Frontispiece 

Derriquin  Castle       ..          ..          ..          ..          ..          ..  ..  8 

Glashnackee     ..                      ..          ..          ..          ..          ..  ,.  8 

Reennaferrara           ..          ..          ..                      ..          ..  ..  10 

Field    Marshal    Viscount    Wolseley    (with    facsimile  of 

Handwriting)       ..          ..          ..          ..          ..          ..  ..  44 

Sir  Arthur  Helps     ..          ..          ..          ,.          ..         ..  ..  66 

Captain  James  Franklin  Bland     ..         ..          ..         ..  ..  84 

Volunteer  Eeview  in  Hyde  Park           ..          ..          ..  ..  88 

Rev.  Arthur  Robins  ..         ..          ..          ..         ..          ..  ..  98 

Dr.  Thomas  Fuller    ..          ..          ..          ..          ..          ..  ..  106 


Handwriting)             ..          ..  150 

..  152 

..  157 

..  159 

.,  160 

..  163 


James  Payn  (with  facsimile  of 

Mrs.  Lynn  Lynton      ,, 

Sir  Leslie  Stephen   ,, 

Samuel  Butler  ,, 

Sir  John  Tenniel       ,, 

Richard  Jefferies      ,, 

G.  H.  Lewes     ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..      164 

Philip  Jambs  Bailey  (with  facsimile  of  Handwriting)        ..     170 
Kylemore  Castle       ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..     184 

Ashford  Castle  ..  ,.  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..     184 

Lord  Justice  Fitzgibbon  (with  facsimile  of  Handwriting)        204 
J.  F.  Fuller,  aged  80  ..  ..  ..  ..  ..  ••     256 


2058C11 


OMNIANA 

FOEEWORD 

I  SEEM  to  have  intruded  myself  into  the  com- 
pany of  posterity,"  says  Frankhn,  in  one  of 
his  letters,  "  when  I  ought  to  have  been  a-bed 
and  asleep."  This  is  my  case,  in  a  nutshell.  It  did 
not  occur  to  me  to  take  up  my  pen,  till  I  was  due  to 
depart — in  fact  a  long  time  overdue  ;  else  I  might, 
by  preserving  documents,  and  noting  forgotten  inci- 
dents of  interest,  have  produced  something  to  better 
justify  my  work.  But  this  is  hardly  an  adequate 
excuse  for  imperfections  ;  and  I  shall,  of  course,  be 
sorry  if  the  critic  is  disappointed  at  not  finding  greater 
"  body  " — as  the  Laconian  was,  when  he  plucked  his 
nightingale,  and  found  it  voice,  but  little  else. 

Sir  Roger  L'Estrange  says  that  "  books  and  dishes 
have  this  in  common,  that  there  never  was  any  one  of 
them  to  please  all  palates.  If  any  man  has  a  mind  to 
take  part  with  me,  he  has  free  leave  and  welcome  ; 
but,  let  him  carry  this  consideration  with  him,  that 
he  is  a  very  unmannerly  guest  who  quarrels  with  his 

1  B 


2  OMNIANA 

dinner."  All  the  same,  I  feel  that  the  worthy  knight 
rather  begs  the  question  ;  for,  when  you  invite  a  man 
to  a  repast,  you  should  provide  meat  and  drink  of  a 
palatable  and  potable  nature.  This  is  what  I  shall 
strive  to  do  ;  but,  whether  I  succeed  or  not,  only  the 
guest  can  determine.  I  am  not  daring  enough,  or 
rash  enough,  to  take  up  a  position  like  that  of  the 
great  Dean  of  St.  Patrick's,  when  he  says,  in  a  letter 
to  Gay  the  poet :  "I  must  talk  nonsense  wlien  I 
please  ;  and,  all  who  are  present  must  commend." 


HUMAN  portraits,"  says  Thomas  Carlyle, 
"  faithfully  drawn,  are  of  all  pictures  the 
welcomest."  I  am  in  full  accord  with  this 
expression  of  opinion  because  memoirs  and  auto- 
biographies have  been,  to  me,  always  of  the  greatest 
interest.  And  now,  in  the  behef  that  a  like  interest  is 
very  general,  I  have  resolved  to  add  one  more  to  the 
number  of  these  portraits — as  faithfully  drawn  as  it 
is  in  my  power  to  draw  it. 

I  camiot  call  myself  a  celebrity,  nor  is  it  necessary 
that  I  should  be  one  ;  for,  as  John  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham says  in  his  Memoirs,  "  accounts  of  persons,  though 
not  very  considerable,  when  written  by  themselves, 
have  been  greedily  read,  and  are  often  found  useful, 
not  only  for  the  knowledge  of  things  past,  but  as 


MAN  A  VAIN  ANIMAL  3 

cautions  for  the  future  "  ;  and,  this  is  the  reason  he 
gives  for  choosing  "  to  employ  some  part  of  that 
leisure  which  I  have  had  at  intervals,  in  setting  down, 
exactly  and  impartially,  all  I  could  remember  of 
myself,  as  a  kind  of  picture  left  behind  me,  to  my 
friends  and  family,  though  neither  well  nor  hand- 
some." 

The  note  of  self-depreciation  may  be  taken  for 
what  it  is  worth  :  somehow  it  never  rings  true,  and  is 
a  mere  conventional  concession,  to  avert  or  nulhfy 
the  charge  of  vanity.  But,  we  are  all  more  or  less 
vain.  If  we  haven't  a  good  opinion  of  ourselves, 
based  on  intimate  knowledge,  we  can't  expect  mere 
acquaintances,  whose  knowledge  must  be  superficial, 
to  form  a  favourable  one.  Buckingham  himself  says, 
later  on  :  "  Nothing  expresses  the  peculiar  nature  of 
humanity  half  so  rightly  as  that  of  a  vain  animal ;  " 
and,  undoubtedly,  the  great  charm  of  that  dehght- 
fully  egotistical  sinner,  Montaigne,  Hes  in  the  self- 
appreciative  autobiographical  touches  with  which 
his  essays  abound.  "  Custom  allows,"  he  says,  "  to 
old  age,  more  liberty  of  prating,  and  more  indis- 
cretion of  talking  of  a  man's  self."  Even  the  Stagyrite 
commends  self-esteem  as  natural ;  but,  he  draws  the 
fine  distinction  that,  when  it  developes  into  selfishness 
it  is  reprehensible,  because  it  is  then  to  love  oneself 
too  much.  I  leave  it  at  that ;  and,  having  said 
enough  by  way  of  apology,  the  question  is — how  to 
begin  ? 


4  OMNIANA 

I  cannot  do  better  than  turn  to  the  work  of  another 
aiitobiographer,  Benvenuto  CelUni.  He  lays  it  down 
as  "  a  duty  incumbent  on  upright  and  credible  men 
[to  which  fraternity  I  may  lay  claim  to  belong]  of 
all  ranks,  to  record,  in  their  own  writing,  the  events  of 
their  Hves,"  with  the  added  injunction  that  "  they 
should  not  commence  this  honourable  task  till  they 
have  passed  their  fortieth  year."  His  record  ceased 
at  the  age  of  sixty-six  :  I  commence  mine  at  a  period 
which  is  double  the  limit  of  the  danger  zone  laid  down 
by  him.  He  goes  on  to  say,  "  In  work  like  this, 
there  will  always  be  found  occasion  for  natural 
bragging.  The  fact  is  that  a  man  should  let  others 
know  if  he  draws  his  lineage  from  persons  of  worth 
and  very  ancient  origin."  Here  Cellini  gives  a 
good  lead,  and  I  am  pretty  safe  in  following  it, 
and  indulging  in  a  httle  of  this  natural  bragging 
which  is  congenial. 

Very  early  in  life,  I  developed  a  craze  for  heraldry 
and  genealogy  ;  and,  it  was  a  source  of  gratification 
to  me  to  find  that  not  only  were  both  my  grandfathers 
men  of  pedigree,  but  that  they  had  adequately  ful- 
filled their  duty  to  myself,  by  marrying  in  a  way 
which  left  nothing  to  be  desired,  by  the  most  exacting 
Kerryman,  in  the  matter  of  pedigree  ;  and  opened  up 
a  boundless  genealogical  field  for  my  enthusiasm  to 
explore,  in  later  hfe,  in  the  spare  moments  of  a  varied 
career. 


MY  CRAZE   FOR   PEDIGREE  5 

RIGHT  here — as  the  Americans  say — I  may  as 
well  set  down,  by  way  of  parenthesis,  all  I 
have  to  propound  touching  this  subject  of 
genealogy  in  the  abstract,  before  proceeding  to  discuss 
the  concrete.  I  learned,  many  years  ago,  from 
perusal  of  Sir  Bernard  Burke's  and  other  books,  on 
the  same  subject,  that  the  goal  of  one's  ambition 
should  be  to  achieve  the  seize  quartiers — possession  of 
which,  in  Germany,  Austria,  Sweden,  Denmark,  and 
other  countries,  is  recognised  by  crowned  heads,  as 
conferring  the  right  to  appear  at  Court  functions, 
presided  over  by  the  Sovereign — a  distinction  which 
did  not  fully  appeal  to  me  till  I  learned  that  there  was, 
so  to  speak,  a  super-goal,  a  trente  deux  or  double 
seize  quartiers,  almost  as  impossible  to  reach  as,  say, 
the  North  Pole  :  then  I  resolved  to  get  there  ;  and 
succeeded,  after  years  of  research  pursued  in  the 
intervals  of  business.  In  the  Appendix  (A)  will  be 
found  a  chart  which  those  not  interested  in  pedigree 
need  not  turn  to  ;  but  which  will  make  things  per- 
fectly plain  at  a  glance,  to  those  who  are.  Many 
famihes  can  trace  back  in  a  perpendicular  line,  three 
or  four  hundred  years  ;  but,  to  account  for  thirty-two 
ancestors  in  a  Jiorizontal  line,  beginning  with  one's 
great-great-great-grandfather,  is  quite  another  thing  ; 
and,  to  succeed  is  to  win  the  blue  ribbon  of  genealogy. 
In  the  chart,  I  have  numbered  these  thirty-two 
ancestors  of  mine,  beginning  with  Wilham  Fuller  and 


6  OMNIANA 

ending  with  the  Reverend  James  Bland.  I  may 
remark  that  one  blank  spoils  all ;  and  that  an  ille- 
gitimacy counts  as  a  blank,  and  is  an  insuperable  bar 
to  progress.  Numbers  13  and  14  kept  me  on  the  rack 
for  years  ;  the  blanks  staring  me  in  the  face  ;  but, 
at  long  last,  my  perseverance  was  rewarded  by  the 
discovery  of  a  father  and  mother  for  Captain  Thomas 
Goddard,  and  my  trente  deux  quartiers  was  complete.* 
But  it  is  time  for  me  to  turn  to  my  more  immediate 
ancestry.  My  mother  was  a  daughter  of  Francis 
Christopher  Bland,  D.L.,  of  Derriquin  (by  his  wife, 
Lucy  Herbert)  ;  one  of  a  family  of  sixteen  ;  and 
acknowledged  to  be  the  handsomest  of  six  surviving 
girls.  She  was  as  good  as  she  was  fair  :  no  words  of 
mine  could  over-state  her  merits,  nor  is  it  necessary 
that  I  should  endeavour  to  enumerate  them.  She 
was  seventeen  when  she  met  my  father.  He  was  the 
eldest  son  of  Captain  Edward  Fuller  (by  his  wife, 
Elizabeth  Blennerhassett),  and  resided  at  Beech- 
mount,  near  Kenmare,  for  some  time  after  his  father's 
death.  He,  also,  was  very  good  looking,  and  was 
aged  twenty-four — an  irresistible,  blue-eyed  Adonis, 
with  all  the  captivating  attributes  which  win  hearts, 
both  male  and  female  ;  a  fearless  horseman  ;  a  crack 
shot ;    an  all-round  sportsman  and  athlete  ;    could 

*  The  late  Lord  Mowbray  Segrave  and  Stourton  was  very  proud  of 
having  proved  liis  trente  devx  quartiers.  It  does  not  follow  tliat  his 
son  has  them.  He  inherits  the  descents  of  course,  through  his  father ; 
but,  to  show  his  own  right  to  treiite  deux  quartiers  he  must  prove  sixteen 
neio  ones  through  Jiis  mother. 


LOVE   AT  FIRST  SIGHT  7 

sail  his  yacht  and  drive  tandem  or  four-in-hand,  with 
skill  and  dexterity.  Moreover,  he  neither  gambled, 
drank,  nor  smoked.  He  sang  Moore's  Melodies  ex- 
quisitely ;  played  the  flute  to  perfection  ;  and,  danced 
an  Irish  jig  or  reel  with  equal  grace.  But,  unfortu- 
nately, he  was  wildly  extravagant,  and  had  abeady 
squandered  a  good  estate  (inherited  as  eldest  son,  and 
held  under  Trinity  College)  and  run  through  every- 
thing. This  was  my  maternal  grandfather's  chief 
objection  to  the  match  ;  probably  also  he  may  have 
thought  his  daughter  too  young  ;  but  if  so  he  forgot 
or  ignored  the  fact  that  her  mother  was  about  the 
same  age,  when  she  became  chatelaine  of  Derriquin  ; 
or  he  may  have  dreaded  a  like  result — ^too  numerous  a 
progeny,  for  his  daughter.  But  whatever  his  objec- 
tions were,  they  were  disregarded.  He  refused  his 
consent,  with  the  usual  result. 

When  my  father  first  saw  my  mother  it  was  all 
over  with  his  other  conquests — and  they  were  many. 

He  was  at  the  time  actually  engaged  to  a  Miss  L 

C ,  daughter  of  Captain  C C ,  whom  he 

promptly  jilted ;  behaving,  it  must  be  owned, 
abominably  to  her  ;    but  all  is  fair  in  love  and  war, 

and  she  ultimately  married  E G ,  nephew  of 

Sir  J G •,  the  second  baronet. 

The  new  flame  kindled  at  Derriquin  soon  blazed 
and  rose  to  fever  heat.  The  courtship  had  to  be 
carried  on  clandestinely,  under  romantic  circum- 
stances.   My  father  dared  not  put  in  an  appearance 


8  OMNIANA 

by  daylight ;  so  he  had  to  be  content  with  moon  or 
starhght ;  or  both  or  neither  ;  as  the  case  might  be  ; 
and  wind  or  rain  was  as  nothing  to  such  an  ardent 
lover.  He  was  notoriously  a  first-rate  judge  of 
horseflesh,  and  his  stable  was  always  to  be  rehed  on. 
Night  after  night,  when  the  inmates  of  Beechmount 
were  a-bed,  he  stole  out,  saddled  a  favourite  mare,  and 
rode  of!  to  do  his  courting.  At  Derriquin,  he  was  met 
by  my  mother  and  two  of  her  sisters  ;  and  could 
safely  count  on  two  or  three  hours  of  love-making 
while  his  unsuspecting  and  future  father-in-law  slept ; 
and  yet  be  home  again  before  the  servants  were  astir. 
Not  that  this  mattered  :  for  the  domestics  at  both 
houses  were  in  the  secret,  and  in  full  sympathy  ;  Irish 
retainers  always  are,  under  hke  circumstances.  As 
a  matter  of  course  there  could  be  only  one  satisfactory 
ending  to  these  meetings — flight,  and  a  runaway 
marriage.  So  one  night,  accompanied  by  a  faithful 
Abigail,  Mary  Falvey  (who  was  afterwards  in  our 
service  for  over  twenty  years — till  she  married  a 
fiddler  named  Buckley),  the  lovers  posted  to  Cork  ; 
got  on  board  a  passage  boat  to  Glasgow ;  and  were 
married,  in  Gorbals  parish,  by  a  venerable  old  clergy- 
man named  McClean.  (I  obtained  a  copy  of  the 
certificate,  some  years  ago,  which  was  necessary  for 
pedigree  purposes.)  When  the  dehnquents  returned 
they  went  to  Kenmare,  hoping  that  the  storm  might 
blow  over — which  it  did  not  for  a  very  considerable 
time.      However,    my    mother    was    her    mother's 


I'hoto:  Latcreiici'.  Dublin. 

DERRIQUIN    CxiSTLE.      SEA   FRONT, 


riioto:  Lawrence,  Duhl 


(iLASilNACKKlO. 


MY   FIRST   APPEARANCE  9 

favourite  daughter  ;  and  the  young  couple  rehed  on 
her  efforts  to  throw  oil  on  the  troubled  waters.  But 
my  grandfather  was  not  to  be  easily  won  over.  My 
advent,  in  due  course,  was  expected  ;  and  there  was 
nothing  for  it,  on  the  part  of  my  grandmother,  but  to 
"  steal  a  march  "  in  order  to  get  my  mother  within 
reach.  The  townland  of  Nedanone,  on  the  estate, 
and  about  seven  miles  from  Derriquin,  was  occupied 
as  a  dairy  farm,  by  my  grandfather's  agent,  John 
Jermyn,  and  there,  in  a  very  small  house,  vacated  by 
him  fro  tern.,  I  was  born. 

"  I  have  known  the  story,"  writes  a  cousin,  "  since 
I  was  a  child.  It  used  to  sound  like  a  fairy  tale  to 
me.  Such  a  pretty  spot !  Mr.  John  Jermyn  held  a 
lease  of  the  whole  townland  at  the  time.  His  sons 
sold  their  interest  in  it,  later.  The  house  stood  on  a 
rock  on  the  high-road  as  you  go  towards  the  West, 
before  you  get  to  the  turn  to  the  '  White  Strand/ 
The  gable  was  still  standing,  some  years  ago,  covered 
with  ivy  ;  about  a  hundred  yards  or  so  from  the  road  ; 
and  approached  by  a  sort  of  little  rocky  terrace,  also 
ivy-covered,  with,  here  and  there,  a  few  shrubs,  a  little 
wood  above,  and  wild  rocks  around." 

Even  the  name  is  romantic.  I  asked  my  friend, 
the  learned  Dr.  Joyce — author  of  those  three  charming 
books  on  Irish  flace-names- — to  explain  the  meaning, 
which  he  promptly  did.  "  Nedanone  means  simply 
a  bird's  nest — Nead-a-noin  ;  an  odd  name  for  a 
townland."     But,  this  oddness  is  explained  by  the 


10  OMNIANA 

fact  that  its  bit  of  wooded  scrub  and  ivy-clad  rock 
presented  the  only  nesting-place  for  birds,  within  a 
radius  of  some  six  miles. 

The  romance  of  the  situation  was  all  very  well  in 
its  way ;  but,  the  difficulties  of  commissariat  had  to  be 
met  and  overcome,  which  was  done  by  the  despatch 
of  a  horse  and  cart,  twice  a  week,  with  provisions, 
plentiful  and  various,  and  supphed  by  my  grand- 
mother's orders,  from  headquarters.  Potatoes,  milk 
and  butter  were  the  only  food-stuffs  indigenous  to 
Nedanone. 

After  I  appeared  upon  the  scene  our  stay  here 
was  short.  My  father  settled  down  at  Reennaferrera 
(Look-out  Point),  which  brought  my  mother  nearer 
home.  It  was  and  is  a  lovely  spot ;  beautified  and 
improved  by  his  judicious  planting  of  trees,  and  since 
by  my  friend  Colonel  Hartley  ;  to  whose  father  it 
was  sold,  when  we  made  a  final  move  to  Glashna- 
cree  (the  httle  stream  by  the  tree),  which  I  have 
owned  since  my  father's  death  in  1886. 

At  the  former  place  I  spent  my  young  days,  and 
thoroughly  enjoyed  hfe.  My  earliest  recollection  is 
my  escaping,  one  bright,  sunny  morning,  in  a  state 
of  nature,  from  the  custody  of  Mary  Falvey,  and 
heading  for  the  strand  below  the  house,  for  a  dip  in 
the  "  briny  "  ;  but  I  was  captured  before  reaching 
my  objective,  by  that  faithful  domestic. 

It  will  perhaps,  hardly  be  credited,  but  it  is, 
nevertheless,  true,  that  my  memory  goes  back  to  my 


Photo :  Laurence,  Dublin. 


Photo:  Lawrence,  Dublin. 


REENNAFERRERA. 


EARLY   MEMORIES  11 

grandfather's  death,  when  I  was  only  in  my  fourth 
year.  I  can  recall  everything — the  room  he  died  in, 
the  great  four-poster  with  its  heavy  hangings  ;  the 
bright  turf  fire,  blazing  in  the  grate  ;  the  weeping 
women  ;  and  my  mother  taking  me  in  her  arms,  and 
holding  me  down  to  be  kissed  by  the  dying  man.  Of 
course  I  did  not  realise  anything  about  death,  or  fully 
understand  the  import  of  the  situation ;  but,  the 
incident  was  indelibly  stamped  upon  my  memory. 

I  can  remember  that  when  I  was  probably  about 
six  or  seven  years  old  I  was  rapidly  developing  into 
a  headstrong  young  whelp — a  handful  for  a  too- 
indulgent  mother  to  contend  with ;  when  I  was 
unexpectedly   brought   to   subjection   by   my   aunt 

M ,  who,  in  a  moment  of  inspiration,  threatened  to 

perform  a  terrible  surgical  operation  upon  me  with 
the  dining-room  snuffers — a  gruesome  implement, 
which  lay  ready  to  her  hand — if  I  was  not  instantly 
"  good."  I  knew  that  my  mother  would  never  resort 
to  such  drastic  treatment,  but  I  soon  found  that  my 
too  complacent  father  had  entered  into  league  with 
the  enemy,  to  save  himself  trouble.  Only  for  this  I 
might  have  shown  fight — audendo  magnus  tegitur 
timor — but  "  two- to-one  "  was  too  long  odds  against 

my  bluffing  it !     I  got  to  love  Aunt  M •,  good  soul, 

later  on,  when  I  came  to  years  of  indiscretion. 

While  I  was  still  in  my  bib-and-tucker  days  an 
incident  occurred  which  might  have  terminated  my 
inglorious  career,  and  rendered  the  production  of  this 


12  OMNIANA 

veracious  narrative  impossible.  The  Keverend  N. 
Bland,  for  several  years  Incumbent  of  the  parish 
(afterwards  Archdeacon  of  Aghadoe),  was  married 
to  my  father's  sister.  They  had  no  children,  and 
consequently,  I  came  into  request  and  favour  with 
this  aunt,  and  spent  much  time  at  the  Rectory.  I 
was  ordered  (having  been  caught  in  the  act)  never  to 
stand  on  the  fender  ;  and,  finding  myself  alone  in  the 
dining-room,  I  of  course  disobeyed  the  injunction, 
by  attempting  to  reach  something  on  the  mantelpiece. 
My  bib  caught  fire,  and  my  cries  promptly  brought 
Uncle  Nat  to  the  rescue.  With  the  hearthrug  he  put 
out  the  flames,  burning  his  hand  in  the  process  ;  and 
having  ascertained  that  I  was  more  frightened  than 
hurt,  he  proceeded  to  supply  the  deficiency  in  this 
latter  respect  by  placing  my  charred  remains  across 
his  knees  and  administering,  with  the  injured  hand,  a 
castigation  which  I  never  forgot,  and  which,  as  "  a 
disobedient  young  brat,"  he  said  I  richly  deserved. 

Later  on,  I  had  my  first  narrow  escape  from 
drowning.  My  father's  yacht  had  been  brought 
into  a  deep  creek  at  the  back  of  Reennaferrera  for 
the  purpose  of  being  dismantled  and  laid  up  for  the 
winter.  Bat  Leary,  able  seaman,  ship's  cook,  and 
general  handy  man,  was  busy  on  deck  with  my  father, 
while  I  played  about  on  the  rocks,  lost  my  footing  on 
the  slippery  seaweed,  and  went  down  and  out  of 
sight  in  no  time.  I  knew  no  more  till  I  found  myself 
being  carried  home  by  my  father,  who  had  thrown  off 


DERPJQUIN  13 

his  coat  and  taken  a  header  from  the  deck  in  order  to 
rescue  his  hopeful  heir.  It  was  a  close  shave,  but  I 
was  none  the  worse  after  a  few  hours'  sleep. 


IT  is  a  trite  saying  that  times  have  changed :  they 
always  do — and  keep  on  doing  it.  "  It's  a  way 
time  has,"  as  Mark  Twain  says.  Derriquin,  in 
my  grandfather's  and  uncle's  time  was  typical — an 
embodiment,  an  epitome  so  to  speak,  of  a  variety  of 
conditions  of  life  which  have  ceased  to  exist  in  Ireland 
under  Gladstone's  and  subsequent  land  legislation. 
Formerly,  if  a  tenant  wanted  roof  timbers  or  flooring, 
he  asked  the  ''  masther,"  who  sent  the  steward  to 
mark  trees  in  the  woods.  These  were  felled  in  due 
course,  and  brought  to  the  saw-pit,  where  two  sawyers 
were  kept  busy,  reducing  logs  to  required  scantlings  ; 
joinery  was  done  in  the  carpenter's  shop,  where 
sashes  and  doors  were  turned  out,  and  which  was 
presided  over  by  the  crankiest  man  that  ever  handled 
a  tool — old  Frank  Dwyer.  Sometimes,  it  must  be 
owned,  he  got  provocation  and  annoyance  enough  to 
sour  his  temper,  from  the  small  fry  of  predatory 
amateur  mechanics — of  whom  I  was  one — who  gapped 
his  planes  and  chisels,  and  buckled  his  saws.  There 
was  a  forge,  where  the  tenants'  horses  were  shod, 
bolts,  rivets,  and  nails  made,  and  all  sorts  of  smith's 


14  OMNIANA 

work  done  by  Jack  Shea — a  lamb  when  sober,  but 
not  infrequently,  when  he  wasn't,  a  veritable  tiger. 
The  ping  ping  of  his  hammer  on  the  anvil  always 
brought  us  boys  round  him.  Sometimes  he  would  let 
one  of  us  work  the  bellows,  and,  at  others,  he  would 
chase  us  of?  with  the  glowing  red-hot  iron.  He  was  a 
grimy  and  fearsome  personahty,  "  a  blacksmith  super- 
carbonated  "  as  Leigh  Hunt  says,  but  fascinating 
withal. 

There  was  a  paint,  oil,  and  glass  store,  the  key  of 
which  my  uncle  (after  whom,  by-the-bye,  I  was 
christened  James  Franklin)  always  kept  in  his  pocket, 
to  guard  against  surprise  visits  from  young  marauders. 
He  did  the  painting  and  glazing  himself  for  the 
tenantry.  This  uncle  was  a  first-rate  mechanic,  as 
well  as  a  painter  and  glazier,  and  could  do  wonderful 
things  with  the  lathe  also. 

Everything  in  the  shape  of  food  was,  so  to  speak, 
"  on  the  premises."  Bullocks,  sheep,  and  pigs 
became,  in  due  course,  beef,  mutton,  pork  and  bacon. 
A  fowlyard  supplied  poultry,  ducks,  geese,  and  eggs. 
There  was  a  fish  pond  replenished  at  intervals,  from  a 
trawler,  with  fish  for  table.  This  pond  was  a  great 
source  of  enjoyment  to  me.  Lobbing  pebbles  on  to 
the  backs  of  the  flat-fish  to  set  them  flopping  of?  in 
their  ungainly  fashion  was  an  amusement  which  no 
boy  could  resist.  The  pond  held,  too,  for  many 
years,  an  honoured  occupant  immune  from  annoyance 
— a  mullet  blind  of  an  eye,  and  so  tame  as  to  take  food 


A   QUEER   FISH  15 

from  the  hand.  The  only  practical  joke  I  ever  played 
on  the  old  chap  was  offering  an  unsavoury  morsel, 
which  he  indignantly  spat  out  and  then  turned  tail. 
I  wondered  whether  he  would  harbour  any  vindictive 
feehng  ;  but  I  found  next  day  that  he  didn't !  Until 
quite  recently  I  believed  this  fish  to  have  been  sui 
generis ;  but  I  find,  from  the  Annual  Register,  that, 
in  1796,  there  was  a  tame  trout  in  a  brook  at  Chapel 
le  Dale  that  a  gentleman  fed  with  worms  and  meat, 
"  which  it  takes  from  between  his  thumb  and  finger  ; 
and,  a  short  time  ago,  actually  bit  his  finger  till  it 
bled,  when  he  had  no  meat  for  it."  The  mullet  was 
of  a  more  amiable  disposition,  anyhow. 

And  here  I  may  fittingly  introduce  a  story  which, 
if  not  true,  was  hen  trovato,  and  was  palmed  off  on  the 
traveUing  correspondent  of  a  London  paper,  to  the 
effect  that  a  tame  lobster  was  wont  to  emerge 
occasionally,  and  follow  my  uncle  James,  like  a  dog, 
about  the  quay.  The  gentleman  duly  reported  the 
curious  fact,  but  with  a  reservation  clause  stating 
that  he  had  not  seen  the  lobster  do  it. 


BUT  it  is  time  that  I  introduced  a  few  facts  touch- 
ing the  early  Fullers.     These  shall  be  as  brief 
as  possible.     The  first  of  the  name  in  Kerry 
was,  according  to  Burke,  John  Fuller,  who,  in  1583, 


16  OMNIANA 

was  "  of  Bowlerstown  and  certain  lands  in  Ballybeg/' 
and  who  sold,  in  1635,  to  Teige  Moriarty,  three  town- 
lands,  which  were  held  from  the  Crown,  "  by  Knight's 
service."  He  appears  to  have  previously  gone  into 
rcbelhon  and  was  pardoned  in  1603.  Naturally, 
with  my  strong  genealogical  prochvities,  I  yearned  to 
locate  his  ancestry  in  England.  This  meant  obtain- 
ing abstracts  o£  all  Fuller  wills  from  the  earliest  date 
down  to  about  1680.  The  immense  collection  which 
took  years  of  intermittent  labour  to  get  together, 
I  presented  to  the  Society  of  Genealogists  of  London, 
for  reference  by  other  Fullers  in  the  future.  All  I 
obtained  by  my  protracted  search,  was  the  incon- 
clusive evidence  that  we  came  originally  from  Essex. 
This  evidence  was  contained  in  the  will  of  Samuel 
Fuller,  proved  in  England  in  1635,  in  which  he 
mentions  his  third  son  "  John,  if  he  doth  ever  happen 
to  come  over  again  " — a  phrase  which  points  to 
Ireland,  as  it  would  hardly  be  used  in  reference  to  a 
more  distant  or  a  foreign  country.  Anyhow,  that's 
all  I  got  for  my  pains.  I  don't  ask  for  sympathy  ; 
but  the  facts  are  worth  recording  to  show  how  far 
afield  the  pedigree  craze  may  lead  one. 

My  great-great-great-grandfather  William  Fuller 
was  in  some  respects  a  remarkable  man.  In  addition 
to  property  in  Limerick  and  Cork,  he  had  large  tracts 
of  land  in  the  barony  of  Iveragh  in  Kerry,  which  he 
stocked  with  numerous  herds  of  cattle.  He  carried 
on  an  extensive  mercantile  business,  also  in  the  City 


CATTLE   HOUGHING   IN    1769  17 

of  Cork,  and  was  Government  contractor  for  the 
victualling  and  transport  of  troops,  as  is  proved  by 
the  Civil  Service  correspondence  in  the  Record  Office, 
Dubhn.  It  was,  doubtless,  in  connection  with  the 
supply  of  troops  that  he  started  cattle  ranching  in 
Iveragh,  which  got  him  into  hot  water,  as  we  shall 
presently  see.  In  1745  he  provided  for  transport 
of  1330  men  for  the  expedition  to  Ostend.  The 
names  of  his  twelve  ships  and  captains  are  given  in 
King's  History  of  Kerry.  The  bill  for  transport  was 
£4000.  In  1747  he  furnishes  his  bill  of  £962  10s.,  for 
transport  of  drafts  of  troops  "  with  twenty  or  thirty 
women  and  children  in  each  ship  "  from  Ireland  to 
Portsmouth.  His  connexion  with  cattle  ranching  in 
Kerry  resulted  in  the  issue  of  several  proclamations, 
one  of  which  I  append.    History  repeats  itself. 

BY  THE  LORD  LIEUTENANT  AND  COUNCIL 
OF  IRELAND. 

A  PROCLAMATION. 

TOWNSEND. 

Whereas  we  have  received  Information  upon  Oath, 
That  in  the  Dead  Time  of  the  Night  of  the  Nineteenth 
Day  of  April  laft.  Eight  Bullocks  and  Twenty-four 
Heifers,  advancing  to  the  Age  of  Three  Years,  the 
Property  of  WiUiam  Fuller,  of  the  City  of  Corke, 
Gentleman,  of  the  value  of  Three  Guineas  each,  were 
picked  and  driven,  out  of  a  greater  Number  of  Cattle, 

c 


18  OMNI  ANA 


off  their  Lodging  Place  on  the  Lands  of  Lnlaghmore, 
in  the  Barony  of  Iveragh  and  County  of  Kerry,  to  a 
considerable  diftance,  and  forced  into  a  bog  at  Lnlagh- 
more aforesaid,  by  Tories,  Robbers  and  Rapparees 
out  in  Arms,  and  on  their  Keeping,  of  the  Popish 
Religion,  and  that  they  then  and  there  felonioufly 
houghed  and  maimed  the  faid  Bullocks  and  Heifers, 
whereby  the  faid  Bullocks  and  Twenty-three  of  the 
said  Heifers  were  killed,  and  the  twenty-fourth  Heifer 
is  in  Danger  of  Dying. 

And  whereas  We  have  received  information  upon 
Oath,  That  fome  Time  in  the  dead  of  the  Night  of  the 
Ninth  Day  of  May  laft,  four  Cows,  the  Property  of 
the  faid  William  Fuller  of  the  price  of  Fourteen 
Pounds,  were  picked  and  driven  out  of  a  greater 
Number  of  Cattle,  the  Property  of  the  faid  WilHam 
Fuller,  from  off  their  Lodging  Place  in  the  faid  Lands 
of  Imlaghmore  aforefaid,  to  a  considerable  Diftance, 
and  forced  into  a  Bog  at  Lnlaghmore  aforefaid,  by 
Tories,  Robbers,  and  Rapparees  out  in  Arms,  and  on 
their  Keeping  of  the  Popish  Rehgion,  who  then  and 
there  felonioufly  houghed  and  maimed  the  faid  Cows, 
whereby  they  muft  fhortly  die. 

And  whereas  Information  has  likewise  been  given 
upon  Oath,  That  in  the  Morning  of  the  Eleventh  Day 
of  May  laft,  a  paper  was  found  ftuck  to  a  Door  of  one 
of  the  Houfes  on  faid  lands  of  Imlaghmore,  in  the 
Words  following  :  *'  Timothy  the  Redreffer  of  Griev- 
*'  ances,  defires  the  Pubhck,  without  Diftinction  of 


REWARD   BY  LORD   LIEUTENANT       19 

"  Perfons,  to  take  Care  how  they  deal  with  the  Noted 
"  Land  Pirate,  that  has  lately  Incroached  into  the 
"  Barony  of  Iveragh,  tho'  I  Timothy  live  at  a  great 
"  Diftance  from  the  Country,  ftill  fhall  do  every  Act 
"  in  my  Power  to  relieve  a  Diftrefied  People,  from 
''  the  Tyranny  of  Foreign  Invaders  ;  This  I  hope  will 
"  be  a  Caution  enough  to  the  Pubhck.  I  have  given  a 
"  Specimen  of  what  I  can  do  to  the  Pirate  himself, 
"  therefore  I  'hope  the  Publick  will  take  the  Hint. 
"  My  Reafons  for  acting  thus  fhall  be  given  at  large 
"  in  a  fhort  Time.  I  am  to  be  met  with  at  the  Sign 
"  of  the  Dagger  and  Hart  at  Ennis — To  the  inhabi- 
"  tants  of  Iveragh." 

Now  WE,  the  Lord  Lieutenant  and  Council,  having 
a  juft  abhorrence  of  fuch  barbarous  and  atrocious 
Crimes,  do  by  this  Our  Proclamation  hereby  pubhsh 
and  declare.  That  if  any  Perfon  or  Perfons  fhall  on  or 
before  the  Sixth  Day  of  December  next,  difcover  all 
or  any  of  the  Perfons  concerned  in  faid  Felonies,  or 
either  of  them,  fo  as  he,  fhe  or  they  be  apprehended 
and  convicted  thereof,  fuch  Perfon  for  difcovering 
fhall  receive  as  a  Reward  the  Sum  of  Fifty  Pounds 
for  each  and  every  of  the  faid  Perfons  fo  to  be  appre- 
hended and  convicted  as  aforefaid. 

And  we  do  hereby  alfo  further  Pubhfh  and 
Declare  That  if  any  Perfon  concerned  in  faid  Felonies, 
or  either  of  them,  fhall  within  the  Time  aforefaid 
difcover  his  or  her  Accomplice  or  Accomplices,  so  as 
he,  fhe,  or  they  be  apprehended  and  convicted  thereof, 


20  OMNIANA 

lucli  Perfon  io  dii'covering,  fhall  not  only  receive  the 
laid  Reward,  but  fliall  alfo  receive  His  Majefty's 
gracious  Pardon  for  faid  Felonies. 

And  we  do  hereby  f  trictly  Charge  and  Command 
all  juftices  of  the  Peace,  Mayors,  Sheriffs,  Bailiffs, 
Conf tables,  and  all  other  His  Majefty's  loving  Sub- 
jects, to  ufe  their  utmoft  Diligence  in  dif covering  and 
apprehending  the  faid  Felons  and  every  of  them. 

Given  at  the  Council  Chamber  in  Dubhn,  the  6th 
day  of  June,  1769. 

Local  tradition  says  there  was  "  a  great  strong 
man  named  Thadig  na  Stiall,"  who  was  present  among 
the  men,  at  the  houghing  of  the  cattle  ;  and  Fuller 
was  told  that  he  was  leader  of  the  "  Whiteboys." 
Songs,  in  Irish,  are  still  sung  about  him  in  Iveragh, 
a  verse  of  one  of  which,  translated,  reads — 

"  If  ye  saw  Teig  na  Stiall, 
And  he  stepping  thro'  Sleevanimillig, 

He  cared  as  much  (or  thought  as  little)  about  Fuller  being  on  his  track 
As  of  a  grey  old  woman  with  a  gun." 

The  result  of  this  proclamation  was  an  abortive 
Trial  at  Tralee,  particulars  of  which  I  take  from  the 
Hibernian  Chronicle  (Cork),  of  September  13th,  1770  : 
"  On  Wednesday,  the  5th  of  this  month,  came  on  at 
"  Tralee,  before  the  Hon.  Mr.  Justice  Malone,  the  trial 
*'  of  Daniel  Connell,  Timothy  McCarthy,  and  Wilham 
"  Hease,  gentlemen,  for  houghing  and  maiming  cattle 
"  belonging  to  Mr.  Wilham  Fuller,  and  others,  on  the 


ABORTIVE   TRIAL  21 

"  lands  of  Imlaghmore,  Murrigh,  Cooles,  and  Eallmiy, 
"  in  the  barony  of  Iveragh,  when,  after  a  most  solemn 
"  hearing,  which  held  for  twelve  hours,  they  were  most 
"  honourably  acquitted,  not  only  to  the  conviction  of 
"  the  Court  and  Jury,  but  also  of  a  very  numerous  and 
"  respectable  appearance  of  the  principal  gentlemen  of 
"  the  County." 

And  tradition  further  saith  that  Catherine, 
daughter  of  William  Fuller,  brought  her  undue 
influence  to  bear  on  her  "  intended,"  Edward  Day  of 
Loghercannon,  foreman  of  the  jury,  and  declared  that 
she  would  never  consent  to  the  hanging  of  such  a  fine 
handsome  man  as  Connell.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the 
man  got  off,  and  she  became  the  grandmother  of 
Judge  Day.  I  am  informed  that  his  real  name  was 
Donal  ac  Murish  Connell  of  Ballycarnihan  Castle, 
near  Cahirdaniel. 

My  grandfather.  Captain  Edward  Fuller,  was 
with  his  regiment,  when  it  was  sent  into  Mayo,  to 
oppose  the  French  troops  at  Eallala  and  Castlebar, 
under  General  Humbert,  in  1798  ;  and  was  present 
when  they  made  their  last  stand  at  Ballinamuck, 
where  they  surrendered.  My  grandmother  Elizabeth, 
(Blennerhassett)  followed  her  husband — at  a  safe 
distance — from  place  to  place  ;  and,  thus  it  came  to 
pass  that  my  father  was  born  in  Carrick  on  Shannon, 
when  the  regiment  was  quartered  there. 

When  I  became  the  owner  of  two  townlands  of 
about  1400  acres  in  Kerry,  they  were  encumbered  by 


22  OMNIANA 

an  annuity  amounting  to  half  the  rental,  payable  to 
a  Mrs.  Barry,  nee  Blennerhassett.  Gladstone's  Land 
Act  gave  the  tenants  power  to  call  for  a  re-valuation 
every  fifteen  years,  which  whittled  the  income  down 
each  term.  The  old  lady  refused  to  make  a  corre- 
sponding reduction  in  her  annuity.  If  the  Act  had 
been  just,  it  would  not  have  left  annuitants  any  option 
in  the  matter  ;  but  it  was  framed  against  the  landlords 
only.  If  Mrs.  Barry  had  not  ''  shuffled  off  this 
mortal  coil  "  in  an  early  stage  of  our  business  relations, 
my  income  from  the  land  would  not  only  have  been 
down  to  zero,  but  many  degrees  below  it.  Before 
the  third  adjustment  term  which  fell  due  in  1913  I 
sold  the  "  Estate  " — for  it  was  dignified  by  that  title 
in  legal  documents — to  the  Congested  Districts  Board. 
But  I  have  lost  my  chronological  bearings.  The 
above  fact  has  reference  to  my  second  childhood, 
rather  than  the  first,  to  which  I  must  return. 


MY  early  guide  and  exemplar,  to  whom  I  looked 
up  with  admiration,  was  a  cousin,  another 
James  Frankhn,  the  second  son  of  my  uncle 
James  Frankhn  Bland  the  first.  He  was  several 
years  older  than  I  was — a  fine  chap  ;  full  of  the  joy 
of  fife  ;  skilled  in  athletic  sports ;  and  destined,  by 
his  own  choice,  for  the  Army  ;  but  more  of  him  as 


FASCINATING  PUESUITS  23 

a  splendid  soldier  later  on.  Among  his  many  per- 
fections he  was  an  unerring  rifle  shot.  I  remember  a 
number  of  seals  putting  in  an  appearance  on  the 
rocky  sea-board  to  the  south  of  the  castle.  Jim 
resolved  to  try  his  luck  with  the  rifle.  Bullets  had 
to  be  cast,  and  other  preliminaries  adjusted,  all  of 
them  interesting  to  me  ;  and,  when  everything  was 
ready,  we  boarded  a  punt  at  the  quay  and  made  for 
our  quarry.  Jim  sat  in  the  stern,  and  I  pulled 
cautiously  ;  taking  orders  from  the  skipper  ;  making 
as  little  noise  as  possible  ;  and  keeping  well  under 
cover  of  the  land.  There  was  hardly  a  ripple  on  the 
water  ;  but  the  sun  was  blazing  hot,  and  I — a  mere 
hobble-de-hoy — was  having  nearly  enough  of  it ; 
when  I  saw  the  rifle  go  up  stealthily  to  the  shoulder. 
I  dropped  the  paddles  well  down,  to  steady  the  punt 
In  a  second  the  shot  rang  out,  and  a  young  seal 
tumbled  off  a  distant  rock.  His  companions  vanished, 
but  he,  perforce,  remained  as  a  prize.  It  was  no 
easy  job  to  get  the  dead,  heavy,  baggy,  slippery 
thing,  into  the  small  boat ;  and  we  very  nearly  came 
to  grief  over  it ;  but  we  landed  him  at  last  in  safety. 
That  "  we  "  was  a  great  source  of  pride  to  the  small 
boy  ;  and  my  sense  of  participation  was  gratifying 
in  the  extreme. 

There  were  other  equally  fascinating  pursuits, 
notably  digging  for  water-rats,  on  the  small  islands 
round  about.  A  spade  and  a  trusted  Irish  terrier, 
were  all  we  required  in  the  way  of  adjuncts.     The 


24  OMNIANA 

terrier  looked  upon  that  spade  as  a  personal  friend, 
and  went  for  it  boisterously  the  moment  it  was  pro- 
duced— knowing  well "  what  was  up."  He  was  always 
first  into  and  out  of  the  punt.  Sometimes  we  were 
accompanied  by  my  cousin's  favourite  greyhound  Zoe;* 
but  she  obviously  considered  the  whole  business  as 
infra  dig.,  and  merely  looked  on,  without  taking  any 
part  in  the  proceedings  ;  I  usually  held  the  terrier 
back  by  his  stumpy  tail  to  save  his  head  from  being 
chopped  off  ;  while  he  sniffed  and  snorted  impatiently 
at  every  dig  of  the  spade,  and  made  a  bellows  of  his 
body — ^bursting  with  eagerness  for  the  fray.  No  rat 
ever  escaped  him.  If  one  took  to  the  water,  so  did 
he,  finishing  his  work  with  neatness  and  despatch, 
and  losing  no  time  in  getting  back. 


BUT  many  dehghts  came  to  an  end  when  Jim 
left  Kerry  to  join  his  regiment- — still,  not  all. 
Another  cousin,  Arthur  Hyde,  took  up  the 
running.  He  was  about  my  own  age,  and  always 
ready  to  second  me  in  the  pursuit  of  enjoyment  and 
adventure  ;  and,  on  the  whole,  we  had,  for  some  years, 
a  pretty  fair  time.  We  were  much  together,  as  he 
preferred  my  father's  house  to  his  own.  "  Uncle 
Tom  "  was  always  'persona  grata  with  young  relatives 

*  There  is  a  portrait  of  her  in  the  picture  of  Captain  Bland,  page  84. 


MY   FATHER'S   CHARACTER  25 

of  both  sexes  ;  and  liked  to  be  with  them,  and  have 
them  about  him ;  which  gave  me  a  feehng  of  pride 
in  the  proprietorship  of  such  a  parent.  He  had  a 
happy  knack  of  attracting  boys,  which  he  retained 
to  the  end  of  his  days  ;  being  in  fact  himself  a  boy — 
an  old  boy,  to  the  last. 

And  here  a  passing  word  about  him  which  will 
come  in  now,  as  well  as  anywhere  else.  He  enjoyed 
life  thoroughly,  and  liked  to  see  those  about  him  do 
the  same  ;  and,  if  he  delegated  to  my  mother  certain 
duties  and  observances  which  were  more  strictly  in 
his  province,  as  head  of  the  household,  he  placed 
them  in  capable  and  loving  hands,  by  whom  they 
were  never  neglected,  nor  perfunctorily  performed. 
The  worst  that  could  be  said  against  him — looking 
back  at  his  character  as  I  recall  it,  is  that  he  some- 
times shirked  disagreeables,  and  perhaps  evaded 
responsibihties,  while  he  had  a  keen  eye  for  the  comic 
and  the  ridiculous,  and  a  ready  wit.  He  won  my 
affection  early,  and  retained  it  to  the  last ;  I  can  frame 
no  heavy  indictment  against  him  for  the  Recording 
Angel  to  make  a  note  of.  He  died  at  the  age  of 
eighty-one  ;  and  met  his  end — which  he  had  expected 
for  some  weeks — with  such  perfect  composure  that 
he  upset  me  by  a  question,  put  as  if  it  was  quite  an 
ordinary  one — whether  I  had  ordered  the  coffin  ? 
*'  Nonsense  !  "  I  said,  "  don't  talk  of  such  a  thing. 
Nothing  of  the  sort !  " 

Some    years    before    his    death,    when    walking 


26  OMNIANA 

through  the  churchyard  with  the  rector,  the  Rev. 

Mr.  T ,  he  pointed  out  the  spot  where  he  wished 

to  be  buried.  "  Curiously  enough,"  said  the  rector, 
''  that's  the  very  place  I  had  selected  for  myself." 
"  Ah  !  well,  parson,"  rephed  my  father,  "  we  won't 
fall  out  about  it.  '  First  come,  first  served.'  "  And 
so  it  fell  out  that  he  rests  in  the  spot  he  had 
chosen. 

At  one  time  a  great  Antinomian  wave  of "  Revival" 
intemperance — intoxication  is  the  better  word — swept 
over  the  parish  ;  and  the  Plymouth  Brothers  had  it 
all  their  own  way  for  a  while.  One  day,  my  father, 
driving  by  the  Coastguard  Station  at  Blackwater, 
pulled  up  to  inquire  for  one  of  the  most  active  pro- 
pagandists, who  had  been  ill. 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  a  sailor-man  at  the  gate,  "  haven't 
you  heard  ?  " 

"  Not  dead  ?  "  queried  my  father. 

"  Yes,  sir.  He  died  this  morning.  The  Lord  has 
sent  for  him." 

To  which  my  father,  in  sympathetic  tones,  re- 
sponded— 

"  You  don't  say  so !  Well,  I  hope  the  devil 
won't  intercept  the  messenger." 

"  No  fear,  sir,  no  fear,"  responded  the  sailor-man  ; 
and  my  father  drove  away. 

This  crapulous  outbreak,  while  it  lasted,  was 
directed  against  the  Church,  which,  for  a  time,  it 
succeeded  in  damaging  ;    but  my  father  remained 


UNCLE   FREDDY  27 

staunch,    and    being   asked    by  a    relative,  W 

H ,   whether   he   was   "  revived,"   was   able   to 

reply— 

''  Well,  no,  Billy  ;  I  heard  it  was  very  '  taking,' 
so  I  gave  it  a  wide  berth — for  fear  of  infection." 

Uncle  Freddy  Hyde  was  of  a  different  mould  from 
my  father  ;  a  strict  disciplinarian  and  formaUst ; 
with  a  numerous  progeny  to  lead  into  the  right  path. 
His  family  prayers  because  of  their  length  were 
something  to  be  evaded  by  us  boys  in  our  youth,  and 
to  be  memorable  in  after  hfe  ;  and  it  did  not  seem  to 
his  son  Arthur,  in  accordance  with  the  fitness  of  things, 
that  he,  as  the  eldest,  should  submit  to  the  ordeal ; 
though  it  appeared  right  enough  that  his  sisters  and 
younger  brothers  should.  If,  vicariously,  through 
them,  he  could  obtain  any  benefit,  well  and  good ; 
but,  if  not,  what  then  was  the  use  of  sisters  and 
younger  brothers  ?  The  programme  consisted  of  a 
Bible  chapter  from  a  formidable  book  by  Dr.  Dod- 
dridge, with  a  commentary  on  every  verse  of  that 
chapter  ;  then  there  was  a  volume  containing  prayers 
for  every  day  in  the  week — morning  and  evening. 
I  used  to  wonder  whether  it  would  cause  any  difference 
if  Uncle  Freddy  were  to  make  a  mistake  about  the 
day.  Anyhow  these  severe  half-hour  ordeals  meant 
smothered  rebellion,  and  evasion  where  possible  ;  but 
this  could  only  be  got  by  absence  of  body,  and  to 
efiect  it  Arthur  put  in  much  of  his  time  with  me. 
The  Fuller  menage  was  wisely  much  more  restricted 


28  OMNIANA 

in  these  respects  ;  and  the  family  was  small.  Many 
years  later,  and  when  well  past  middle  life,  on  paying 
a  visit  to  my  widowed  aunt,  I  recognised,  in  her 
possession,  the  identical  volume  of  Doddridge  (I 
think  it  was  called  the  Family  Expositor — or  some 
name  like  that),  and  nearly  lost  my  mental  balance, 
for  the  moment.  I  have  never  forgotten  "  old  man  " 
Doddridge  ;  and,  with  this  tribute  to  his  memor}^,  I 
dismiss  him  for  the  present. 

It  would  appear,  from  his  pathetic  autobiography, 
Father  and  Son,  that  Edmund  Gosse  suffered  in  this 
respect  even  more  severely  than  my  cousin  Hyde  ; 
the  paternal  instrument  of  torture,  in  his  case,  being 
Jukes  on  Prophecy — a  book  which  I  have  not  met 
with  and  have  not  sought  for. 

I  remember  an  occasion  on  which  I,  by  some  means, 
got  hold  of  a  quantity  of  gunpowder.  How  I  came 
by  it,  I  don't  recollect ;  but,  probably,  I  stole  it  from 
my  father's  supply  of  ammunition,  which  he  never 
took  the  precaution  to  keep  under  lock  and  key. 
However,  how  I  got  it  is  an  insignificant  detail ;  the 
important  one  then  was  that  I  had  the  powder ;  and, 
naturally,  possession  suggested  to  Hyde  and  myself 
the  obvious  idea  that  we  should  do  something  with  it 
■ — blow  something  or  somebody  up — else  what  was 
the  use  of  having  it.  We  decided  to  bore  a  deep  hole 
in  a  peat  sod,  fill  it  with  the  powder,  and  explode  it 
with  a  fuse  made  by  rubbing  some  of  the  powder 
into  brown  paper  (this  receipt  for  making  touch-paper 


I   BLOW   MYSELF   UP  29 

is  known  to  all  boys).  Retiring  to  a  secluded  spot, 
behind  a  clump  of  trees,  near  the  shore,  we  set  a 
match  to  our  fuse,  retreated  to  a  safe  distance,  and 
awaited  results.  Delay  seemed  to  indicate  a  miss- 
fire.  I  grew  impatient,  and  went  nearer,  to  see  what 
was  wrong,  when  the  charge  went  off  so  close  to  me 
that  it  blackened  my  face  and  scorched  the  hair  on 
my  head  and  eyebrows,  but,  fortunately,  did  no  other 
damage.  Hyde  endeavoured  to  wash  off  the  smut, 
with  sea  water,  but  without  success.  He  then  made 
tracks  for  Hollywood,  where  he  lived  ;  and  I  slunk 
home  by  the  yard  into  the  kitchen.  My  appearance 
had  such  an  effect  upon  Mary  Falvey,  that  a  cry 
from  her  soon  brought  my  mother  upon  the  scene. 
Her  anxiety  must  have  overcome  her  anger,  after  I 
had  made  confession  ;  but  how  I  escaped  the  punish- 
ment, at  the  hands  of  my  father,  which  I  richly 
deserved,  puzzled  me  very  much  at  the  time  ;  and  I 
can  only  account  for  it  now  by  concluding  that  my 
mother  must  have  held  him  up  to  his  own  contempt 
as  the  major  culprit  for  having  left  powder  within 
reach  of  a  boy.  Anyhow,  I  escaped  with  a  lecture, 
on  giving  a  promise  that  I  would  never  again  be  guilty 
of  theft ;  and  which,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  I  have 
kept — except  in  connexion  with  orchards  ;  no  boy 
could  be  expected  to  resist  apples  ;  and  I  feel  certain 
that  he  would  have  allowed  a  special  reservation  with 
regard  to  them,  if  I  had  asked  for  it. 

Let  me  recall  one  other  escapade.    It  occurred  to 


30  OMNIANA 

Hyde  and  myself  that  it  would  be  highly  satisfactory 
to  carry  out  a  practical  joke  at  the  expense  of  old 
Frank  Dwyer,  the  Derriquin  carpenter ;  and  we 
decided  on  a  ghostly  apparition,  produced  at  the 
dead  of  night,  as  likely  to  effect  our  object.  The 
ghost  was  duly  constructed,  draped  in  a  sheet,  and 
finished  off  at  top  by  a  turnip  scooped  out  very  thin, 
and  illuminated  with  a  candle.  As  the  start  had 
to  be  made  from  Hollywood,  Uncle  Freddy  and  Dod- 
dridge got  their  "  innings,"  but  our  thoughts  were 
centered,  not  on  our  devotions,  but  on  the  aftermath 
to  which  we  looked  forward.  Instead  of  going  to 
bed  we  started  of!  on  our  nefarious  expedition,  by  a 
pathway  through  a  plantation,  which  led  by  a  short 
cut  to  the  high-road,  and  passed  close  to  the  old 
man's  house.  The  night  was  pitch  dark.  Hyde 
walked  cautiously,  carrying  the  spectre ;  while  I 
formed  an  advanced  guard,  and  proceeded  to  recon- 
noitre. A  fitful  fight  from  the  embers  of  a  turf  fire, 
showed  old  Frank  seated  on  a  three-legged  stool, 
smoldng — "  herself  "  having  apparently  retired  to 
rest.  My  muffled  and  mysterious  knock  at  the  back 
door  startled  him.  He  put  down  his  pipe  promptly  ; 
opened  the  door  ;  saw  the  ghost ;  and  passed  hke  a 
shot  out  into  the  darkness,  with  an  oath.  The 
immediate  result  was  not  what  we  expected.  With 
a  hop,  step,  and  jump,  he  made  for  a  turf  stack  at  the 
gable  end,  and  commenced  a  vigorous  onslaught, 
emphasised  by  objurgations  of  which  he  was  a  master. 


A   TUTOR   TAKES  ME   IN   HAND        31 

Hyde  bore  the  brunt  of  the  attack — ^the  ghost 
presenting  a  good  mark.  Soon  the  kiminous  head 
came  to  grief ;  and  the  old  man,  being  suddenly 
reinforced  by  "  herself "  in  dishabille,  we  beat  a 
hasty  and  ignominous  retreat,  getting  back  to 
Hollywood  with  considerable  difficulty.  We  tumbled 
into  bed  together  with  the  knowledge  that  retribu- 
tion awaited  us  in  the  morning,  for  there  was  no 
escaping  Doddridge ;  he  was  served  up,  always, 
before  breakfast. 


THE  time  came,  at  last,  when  my  liberty  had  to 
be  curtailed,  my  mother's  efforts  at  moral 
instruction  supplemented,  and  my  father's 
desultory  tuition  abandoned  in  favour  of  a  resident 
tutor,  who  was  duly  installed  at  Reennaferrera, 
where  he  reigned  supreme  for  some  years.  He  was 
a  worthy  old  soul,  and  a  first-rate  teacher  ;  and  his 
store  of  general  knowledge  seemed  to  me  then  to  be 
inexhaustible.  Looking  back  now,  after  all  these 
years,  I  can  only  find  his  prototype  in  the  barber  of 
Bagdad  (in  the  Arabian  Nights)  who  thus  enumerates 
his  own  acquirements  : — "  a  finifhed  Grammarian,  a 
"  compleat  Orator,  a  fubtile  Logician,  a  Mathe- 
"  matician  perfectly  well  vers'd  in  Geometry,  Arith- 
"  metick,  Aftronomy,  and  all  the  Divifions  of  Algebra  ; 


32  OMNIANA 

"  an  Hiftorian  fully  Mafter  of  the  Hiftories  of  all  the 
"  Kingdoms  of  the  Univerfe." 

My  father  was  a  good  Latin  scholar,  and  could 
aptly  quote  his  Horace  or  Virgil  when  opportunity 
offered.  I  aspired  to  follow  his  bent  in  my  love  for 
the  Classics.  My  enthusiasm  had  been  fired  by 
hearing  James  Murphy — a  college  friend  of  my  Bland 
cousins — translating  passages  from  Homer,  in  the 
drawing-room  one  evening  for  the  entertainment  of 
the  ladies,  and  I  fondly  but  vainly  imagined  that, 
some  day,  I  might  be  able  to  read  Greek  as  fluently. 
Mr.  Murphy  became  subsequently  a  distinguished 
barrister,  and  was  engaged  in  many  famous  trials. 
He  conducted  the  case  for  the  Crown  against  the 
"  Invincibles  " — the  murderers  of  Lord  Frederick 
Cavendish  and  Mr.  Burke,  in  the  Phoenix  Park — 'with 
such  skill  and  acumen,  that  he  was  advanced  to  a 
judgeship  ;  a  position  which  he  adorned  for  many 
years  ;  fulfilhng  his  arduous  duties  with  conspicuous 
abihty.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  him,  late  in  hfe,  to  talk 
of  the  old  days  in  Kerry,  which  we  never  failed  to  do 
when  we  met.  I  remember  that  one  of  the  greatest 
dehghts  I  experienced,  as  a  boy,  was  the  receipt  of 
a  paint-box  and  brushes  sent  me,  by  him,  from 
Dublin.  Of  course  he  had  forgotten  all  about  this 
gift,  but  I  had  not,  and  brought  it  to  his  recollection 
on  one  occasion.  Some  years  after  his  death  it  was 
with  a  feehng  of  regret  that  I,  as  architect,  had  to 
destroy   the   identity    of    his   hospitable    house    at 


EAKLY   INCIDENTS   OF   MY   CAREER    33 

Stillorgan,  in  order  to  meet  the  flamboyant  require- 
ments of  an  American  "  Boss "  (Richard  Croker) 
who  purchased  the  place  from  the  judge's  executors. 


IN  due  course  the  tutor  took  his  departure,  and 
the  question  of  my  going  to  a  boarding  school 
had  to  be  considered. 

Before  starting  on  that  momentous  journey  I 
should  like  to  touch  on  a  few  minor  facts  and  incidents 
which  should  not  be  omitted  from  a  personal  record 
of  this  description,  even  though  they  tell  against  the 
narrator. 

Very  early  in  my  career,  I  think  my  father  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  I  was  not  likely  to  do  credit 
to  the  sporting  instincts  which  he  hoped  I  might  have 
inherited.  He  owned  a  spirited  sire  horse  named 
"  Signal,"  which  he  was  exercising  one  day  while  I 
looked  on — an  interested  spectator ;  this  was  a 
considerable  time  before  I  was  breeched.  Dismount- 
ing and  holding  the  bridle,  he  lifted  me  into  the  saddle. 
My  short  legs  were  unable  to  catch  a  grip  ;  the  seat 
was  a  sHppery  one  ;  and  the  horse — looking  upon  the 
situation  either  as  a  joke  or  an  insult — took  to 
bucking,  standing  on  his  hind  legs,  and  otherwise 
conducting  himself  in  a  fashion  which  struck  terror 
into  my  infant  mind.  I  yelled,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
was  rescued  by  my  father  ;  just  in  time,  and  as  I  was 

D 


34  OMNIANA 

about  to  turn  a  somersault ;  and  alighted  on  my  feet 
instead  of  my  head.  From  that  hour  the  conviction 
was  forced  upon  me  that,  if  I  could  not  get  inside  a 
horse,  it  would  be  safer  for  me  to  keep  off  his  outside  ; 
and  this  conviction  has  remained  with  me  till  now. 
Yet  the  irony  of  fate  had  decreed  that  the  family 
crest  should  be  a  horse. 

As  I  grew  in  years  and  was  breeched,  my  exploits 
with  a  gun,  of  which  I  had  free  use,  were  not  brilliant. 
I  remember  "  spotting  "  a  hare  in  his  "  form,"  close 
to  the  house,  in  some  adjoining  scrub.  Seizing  the 
double-barrel,  which  always  stood  loaded  in  the  hall, 
I  stalked  him.  Squatted,  Indian  fashion  on  my  heels, 
and  under  cover  of  a  bush,  I  watched  my  opportunity. 
He  left  his  "  form  "  and,  sitting  up,  looked  about  him. 
With  murderous  intent  I  fired  and  knocked  him  over. 
The  gun,  retaliating  by  a  "  kick,"  knocked  me  over 
at  the  same  moment.  I  picked  myself  and  the  hare 
up,  and  took  him  in  to  replenish  the  larder.  My 
father's  comment  on  my  prowess  was  an  inteUigible 
damper  ;  it  was  "  right  enough  to  shoot  rabbits,  but 
wrong  to  shoot  hares,"  he  said  ;  I  didn't  ask  why, 
but  I  presumed  it  was  because  they  should  be  coursed. 
My  subsequent  experience  with  a  gun  did  not  prove 
a  whit  more  satisfactory,  though  it  resulted  in  the 
death  of  a  snipe.  I  saw  the  bird  in  the  dusk  one 
evening,  lazily  rise  from  a  ditch,  and  drop  into  the 
marshy  corner  of  a  field.  Evidently  there  was  some- 
thing wrong  with  it,  or  it  was  nesting  (as  an  odd  snipe 


UNCLE  JACK  35 

does,  now  and  then,  in  the  south)  ;  at  all  events  I 
caught  sight  of  it  again,  pottering  about  in  the  swamp, 
among  the  rushes,  and — I  shot  it  "  on  the  run."  I 
hoped  to  make  capital  out  of  this  deed. 

My  uncle  Jack  Fuller,  who  was  a  tart  and  vinegary- 
bachelor,  priding  himself  (not  unduly)  on  his  reputation 
as  a  snipe  shot,  would  be  vastly  impressed  when  he 
heard  of  my  achievement.  There  was  satisfaction  in 
the  thought,  because  he  made  no  secret  of  his  dislike 
to,  and  contempt  for,  boys.  I  had  not  forgotten  that 
once,  stung  into  retort,  I  taunted  him  with  having 
been  himself  a  boy,  which  he  stoutly  and  promptly 
denied  ;  forcing  me  to  accept  his  mendacious  assertion, 
because,  at  the  moment,  I  had  no  means  of  refuting 
it.  I  would  show  him,  now,  that  a  boy  could  shoot 
snipe.  But  I  was  suddenly  confronted  by  a  moral 
crux.  I  wanted  to  convey  the  impression  that  the 
bird  had  fallen  to  my  gun  legitimately,  when  on  the 
wing  ;  but  my  mother  had  sedulously  impressed  upon 
me  the  imperative  necessity  of  truthfulness.  I 
resolved  that  I  could  not  tell  a  lie  direct ;  but  it  was 
a  clear  case  for  suffressio  veri,  suggestio  falsi  ;  let 
Uncle  Jack  draw  his  own  conclusions — which  he  did 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  and  dubbed  me 
"  Pot-shot "  ;  a  nickname  which,  to  my  chagrin,  he 
kept  up  ever  afterwards  with  such  pertinacity  that 
I  began  to  fear  it  might  supersede  my  baptismal  one. 

Here  I  may  as  well  finish  off  Uncle  Jack,  before 
going  any  further  with  my  narrative.    He  Hved  about 


36  OMNIANA 

five  miles  from  Glashnacree,  in  a  charmingly  situated 
residence  which  is  still  to  be  seen,  at  Blackwater 
bridge — a  beauty  spot  known  to  all  tourists  passing 
to  and  fro,  halfway  between  Kenmare  and  Park- 
nasilla.  I  remember  that,  one  day,  driving  with  my 
father  to  Kenmare,  we  pulled  up  at  the  gate,  and 
interviewed  the  shock-headed  youth  who  acted  in 
the  double  capacity  of  butler  and  valet-de-chambre. 
His  master,  whom  my  father  wanted  to  see  on  some 
business  or  other,  was  not  at  home. 

"  Be  gor,  sir,"  said  Jerry,  *'  he's  gone — he's  with 
the  lord." 

But  Uncle  Jack  wasn't  dead.  The  lord  wasn't 
even  a  spiritual  one,  but  the  Marquis  of  Conyngham, 
whose  yacht  had  put  in  at  Blackwater  that  morning, 
and  who  had  taken  "  the  masther  "  for  a  cruise  which 
would  probably  last  all  day.  Jerry  and  I  were  friends 
of  long  standing,  and  I  elected  to  be  dropped  by  my 
father,  and  picked  up  again  on  his  return  journey. 

We  had  the  place  to  ourselves  for  the  rest  of  the 
day,  during  which  something  had  to  be  done.  I  went 
on  a  tour  of  inspection,  and  finally  decided  to  fix  up 
the  salmon  rod,  which  was  standing  invitingly  in  a 
corner  of  the  sitting-room,  and  try  my  luck  on  the 
river.  Jerry  remonstrated,  but  finally  accepted  the 
inevitable  ;  and  knowing  where  to  find  everything, 
soon  produced  line,  reel,  and  fly  book — out  of  which 
latter  I  selected  the  most  gaudy  specimen.  Fully 
provided,  I  made  my  way  down  a  steep  dechvity,  at 


I   CATCH   A  SPENT  SALMON  37 

the  back  of  the  house.  The  bed  of  the  river  was 
nearly  dry.  Only  one  small  pool  was  visible,  with 
water  enough  to  cover  a  fish.  There  was  one  in  it ! 
The  time  was  out  of  season,  and  the  fish,  therefore 
out  of  sorts — anyhow  it  did  not  wait  for  the  fly  to 
touch  the  surface.  The  hook  was  in  its  mouth  and 
my  heart  was  in  mine,  at  one  and  the  same  moment. 
The  fish  took  to  jumping — fortunately  up-stream,  and 
landed  several  times,  high  and  dry  on  the  rocky  and 
slippery  surface.  The  pursuit  became  exciting.  I 
dropped  the  rod,  and  Jerry  and  I  went  hot  foot  for 
our  quarry.  Jerry  at  last  succeeded  in  effecting  a 
capture  by  throwing  himself  on  top  of  the  spent  and 
feeble  salmon.  I  picked  up  the  rod  and  we  retraced 
our  steps.  I  was  elated,  but  Jerry,  when  we  got 
back,  looked  obsessed,  as  he  laid  the  fish  down,  and 
wiped  his  hands  in  the  long  wet  grass  ;  then  he 
straightened  himself,  and,  drying  his  palms  on  his 
hips,  delivered  himself  of  the  conviction  that — 

"  Be  gor,  the  masther  will  kill  the  both  of  us — so 
he  will." 

I  inquired  "  Why  ?  " 

"  Ah,  shure,  it's  out  of  sayson,  all  together.  And 
weren't  we  poachin'  into  the  bargain,  and  you  without 
a  Hcence." 

After  due  dehberation  we  determined  to  hide  the 
evidence  of  our  guilt ;  put  back  the  rod  and  tackle, 
and  keep  dark.  What  ultimately  became  of  the 
fish  I  never  heard,  and  I  had  to  content  myself  with 


38  OMNIANA 

this  recollection  of  that  which  Sir  Henry  Wotton  calls 
a  not  infrequent  experience  of  the  angler,  *'  an  idle 
time  not  idly  spent." 

I  have  recorded  elsewhere  an  early  escape  from 
drowning.  Later  on  I  had  another.  My  father  was 
going  on  a  cruise.  Uncle  Jack  and  I  were  of  the 
party.  The  yacht  was  moored  in  Rossdohan  harbour, 
not  far  from  Glashnacree.  The  guests  were  all  on 
board,  the  main-sail  was  going  up,  and  I  was  pottering 
about  the  deck,  not  apprehending  danger,  when  the 
boom  caught  me  unawares,  in  the  small  of  my  back, 
and  overboard  I  went.  Bat  Learey  was  into  the  punt 
in  a  brace  of  shakes,  and  effected  a  speedy  rescue. 
There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  land  me,  like  a  half- 
drowned  rat,  to  find  my  way  home,  disappointed  and 
crestfallen ;  while,  ringing  in  my  ears,  was  the 
exultant  voice  of  Uncle  Jack,  as  he  shouted,  "  Ah,  ah. 
Pot-shot !    Well  done.  Pot-shot !  " 

*'  Keen  as  an  acid  for  an  alkali,"  * 

and  always  ready  to  rejoice  in  the  discomfiture  of  a 
boy. 

One  more  incident  and  I  have  done  with  him. 
Our  relations,  as  I  have  shown,  were  always  more  or 
less  strained  ;  but,  at  last,  I  declared  open  war,  when 
one  day,  discussing  with  my  father,  the  question  of  my 
future  profession.  Uncle  Jack  volunteered  the  advice 
that  I  should  be  made  a  parson  and  apprenticed  to 

*  James  Russell  Lowell. 


I   GO   TO   A  BOAEDING  SCHOOL        39 

Uncle  Nat  Bland,  then,  as  I  said,  rector  of  the  parish. 
This  was  rather  too  much  of  a  good  thing ;  and 
I  was  not  reassured  by  my  father's  tentative  remark 
that  "  there  was  time  enough  yet,  to  think  about  it." 
It  was  of  course  a  grim  joke,  which — as  a  youngster 
— I  took  seriously ;  and  resented  bitterly,  as  an 
unwarrantable  interference  with  a  matter  which  did 
not  concern  Uncle  Jack.  The  suggestion  did  not 
materiahse,  I  need  hardly  say  ;  but  at  the  time,  it 
seemed  horribly  simple,  and  alarmingly  feasible  ;  for 
I  had  no  doubt  that  this  process  was  the  usual  one 
by  which  clergymen  were  turned  out.  Peace  to  his 
ashes  !  If,  for  a  time,  he  was  to  me  a  thorn  in  the 
flesh,  I  have,  at  least,  kept  his  memory  green  ;  and  I 
hope  perpetuated  it  by  this  veracious  record. 


AT  last  the  dreaded  day  arrived  when  I  had  to 
leave  home  for  a  boarding  school.     The  one 

selected  was  run  by  Mr.  R ■  at  Blackrock, 

near  Cork.  He  was  a  spectacled,  sallow-faced  man, 
with  a  pug  nose  and  black  hair  which  imparted  a  blue 
tinge  to  his  close-shaven  jaws  and  chin.  I  did  not 
like  the  look  of  him,  at  all,  at  first  sight ;  but  his 
reception  of  my  father  and  myself  was  so  friendly — 
not  to  say  warm,  that  the  unfavourable  impression 
wore  ofi.     We  were  invited  to  luncheon  in  his  private 


40  OMNIANA 

apartments,  where  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  big 

good-natured  chap   named  H ,   who,   I   learned 

afterwards,  was  a  bit  of  an  ass  ;  was  taken  on  as  a 
"  parlour  boarder,"  and  was  being  crammed  for 
some  exam,  or  other ;  and  only  associated  with  the 
other  boys  in  their  play  time.  I  got  very  chummy 
with  him,  while  my  father  talked  to  Mr.  K — — : 
In  due  course  Ave  sat  down  to  luncheon,  and  every- 
thing went  smoothly,  till  an  impulse  seized  me  to 
make  a  small  ball  of  a  piece  of  bread  and  shoot  it 
with  my  thumb  and  first  finger  (as  a  boy  shoots  a 

marble)  across  the  table  into  the  face  of  H .    It 

hit  him  on  the  nose  and  he  jumped.  I  burst  into  a 
fit  of  laughter,  in  which  he  joined,  but  silently ;  in  fact 
he  only  gurgled,  having  an  eye  to  the  proprieties. 
My  father  reprimanded  me  in  a  perfunctory  sort  of 
way,  and  Mr.  R— —  took  no  official  notice — ^just  then  ; 
but  when  the  time  came  for  parting,  and  he  had  shaken 
hands  with  my  father,  and  shut  him  out  at  the  hall 
door,  he  seized  me  by  the  jacket  collar,  and  remarking, 
"  We'll  have  to  learn  better  manners,  young  gentle- 
man, by-and-bye,"  opened  the  schoolroom  door  and 
unceremoniously  thrust  me  in  among  a  crowd  of 
young  savages  (as  they  seemed  to  me),  who  clustered 
round  the  new  boy  immediately. 

I  will  not  dwell  upon  the  ordeal  of  introduction. 
The  schoolboy  who  has  not  felt  the  sensation  of  utter 
misery,  desolation  and  lonehness  attached  to  it,  must 
have  had  an  exceptionally  unhappy  home,  which  mine 


UNCLE   TOM  41 

certainly  was  not.  It  was  borne  in  upon  me  that  I 
simply  had  to  "  make  the  best  of  it,"  which  I  soon 
set  to  work  to  do.     My  cousin  Hyde  turned  up  in  a 

few  days,  and  I  found  another  cousin,  young  E 

S ,  already  there.     We  formed  a  defensive  league, 

so  that  things  turned  out  better  than  I  expected.    My 

uncle,  the  father  of  S ,  a  retired  navy  captain, 

lived  within  easy  reach  ;  and  we  three  boys  sometimes 
spent  from  Saturday  to  Monday  together  at  his  house. 
He  was  not  so  exigent  in  the  matter  of  family  prayers 
as  my  uncle  Hyde  ;  but  he  had  to  read  them,  "  by 
order  "  of  my  aunt,  every  evening.  This  did  not 
unduly  interfere  with  our  play  time.  He  began  with 
a  psalm,  but  always  turned  over  the  pages  till  he  came 
to  a  short  one.  There  was  no  Doddridge's  Family 
Expositor ;  everything  was  brief,  smart,  and  crisp, 
and  soon  over.  He  was  a  genial,  spruce  Uttle  man, 
who  had  seen  service,  and  commanded  a  ship  at  the 
bombardment  of  St.  Jean  d'Acre.  There  was  a 
framed  engraving  of   her  in  the  dining-room  which 

was  an  object  of  interest  to  us  boys.   Uncle  S had 

only  one  faihng — great  curiosity  as  to  the  affairs  of 
his  relatives.  I  remember  his  accosting  my  father 
with  the  question,  "  Well,  Tom,  and  what  may  be 
your  income  just  now  ?  "     The  answer  he  got,  on  the 

instant,  was,  "  Faith,  S ,  I  couldn't  tell  you  :    it 

fluctuates  a  good  deal."     My  personal  recollections  of 

Uncle  S are  pleasant.     I  recall  the  fact  that, 

some  years  after  I  had  left  school  and  was  articled  to 


42  OMNIANA 

an  architect  in  London,  lie  looked  me  up  one  Sunday, 
and  treated  me  right  royally.  We  went  to  church  in 
Langham  Place  ;  and,  I  saw  him,  when  the  offertory 
was  being  collected,  put  half-a-crown  into  the  plate 
with  one  hand  and  take  out  two  shilHngs  with  the 
other,  which  I  thought  a  most  courageous  thing  to  do. 

His  son  E left  school  a  year  or  so  after  Hyde 

and  I  went  there.  He  joined  the  navy  as  a  middy, 
and  died  young.  Another  schoolfellow  was  Thomas 
Deane,  who  afterwards  went  to  Trinity  College,  and 
subsequently  became  a  leading  Dubhn  architect.  He 
was  the  son  of  Sir  Thomas  Deane,  a  Cork  architect, 
of  note  ;  was  himself  knighted  ;  and  became  the 
father  of  a  third  architect,  equally  clever,  who  was 
also  knighted.  This  is,  I  should  say,  quite  a  unique 
record — three  knights  and  three  notable  men  of  the 
same  profession — for  three  successive  generations. 
The  last  is,  I  am  glad  to  say,  still  with  us.  The  first 
Sir  Thomas  was,  by  the  wags  of  Cork,  associated  with 
two  other  prominent  citizens  whose  names  I  forget, 
and  who  were  spoken  of  as  "  Blatherum,  Leatherum, 
and  Botherum."  He  was  a  great  talker  ;  the  second 
was  in  the  leather  trade  ;  and  the  last  was  a  bit  deaf. 
Cork  was  noted  for  wit  of  this  mordant  sort.  I 
remember  a  couplet  which  was  a  play  upon  the  names 
of  two  other  citizens  of  an  earher  date  who  came 
to  financial  grief — 

"  Going  and  Gonne  are  now  all  one, 
For  Gonne  is  going  and  Going's  gone." 


LORD   WOLSELEY  AND  KING  KOFFEE    43 

Another  witticism  was  at  the  expense  of  my 
cousin  Hyde's  family,  of  Castle  Hyde  in  the  same 
county.  The  first  to  settle  in  Ireland  obtained  (on 
26th  January,  1588)  a  grant  of  12,000  acres.  It  was 
said  by  the  wags,  and  truly  said,  half  a  century  ago, 
that  "  they  had  nothing  left  then  but  the  Hide." 
This  cousin,  who  ultimately  became  my  brother-in- 
law  ;  after  he  left  school  took  to  the  sea  ;  and  when 
he  married  had  risen  to  a  captaincy.  Before  I  leave 
him  I  must  tell  a  story  or  two  connected  with  his 
career. 

He  went  out  to  the  Gold  Coast  in  command  of 
the  S.S.  Thames  with  troops  for  the  Ashantee  campaign. 
Lord  Wolseley,  who  was  then  Sir  Garnet,  received 
from  his  dusky  enemy  a  letter  written  "  to  order  " 
by  an  American  or  German  missionary  (who  was  in 
the  savage's  clutches)  containing  overtures  which  he 
believed  to  be  treacherous,  but  was  puzzled  as  to 
how  to  convey  a  warning  :  he  succeeded,  as  it  turned 
out,  admirably.  Sir  Garnet  showed  the  document  to 
Hyde,  who  immediately  called  his  attention  to  the 
extraordinary  figures  that  occupied  the  place  usually 
filled  by  the  date,  and  which  Sir  Garnet  had  not 
noticed.  These  were  2  Cor.  2  cJi.  11  v.  Obviously, 
the  next  step  was  to  requisition  a  Bible.  The  reference 
read  :  "  Lest  Satan  should  get  advantage  of  us,  for  we 
are  not  ignorant  of  his  designs.'"  Sir  Garnet  profited 
by  the  text,  and  was  ultimately  "  one  too  many  "  for 
King  Koffee.    It  is  a  matter  of  regret  that  the  name 


44  OMNIANA 

of  the  missionary  has  not  been  recorded  ;  Sir  Garnet's 
interpreter  was  named  Dawson. 

Hyde,  on  his  return  trip,  brought  back,  with  two 
other  officers,  Sir  WilHam  Butler,  then  a  captain  ; 
who  when  taken  on  board,  was  in  a  high  state  of 
malarial  fever.  On  the  second  day  at  sea,  he  was 
reported  dead.  The  doctor,  his  brother  officers,  and 
Hyde  hurried  into  his  cabin,  where  he  lay  apparently 
lifeless,  as  the  situation  was  being  discussed  ;  when 
suddenly  his  vitahty  asserted  itself ;  and,  in  his 
dehrium,  he  jumped  clean  out  of  his  cot.  With  great 
difficulty  he  was  soothed  and  got  to  bed  again,  and 
in  a  few  days  was  on  the  mend.  The  first  request  he 
made,  on  recovering  his  senses,  was  for  a  priest  to 
be  called  in  on  the  earhest  opportunity.  One  was 
found  at  Madeira,  who  ministered  to  his  spiritual 
needs,  and  went  away,  taking  with  him  a  bag  of 
sovereigns — whether  in  trust,  or  as  a  gift,  or  for 
masses,  no  one  could  tell.  But  Sir  Wilham  did  not 
die  then,  as  we  know  ;  and  Hyde  never  lost  sight  of 
him  till  he  handed  him  over  to  the  hospital  authorities 
at  Netley. 

When  going  out  subsequently  with  more  troops, 
which  were  under  the  command  of  Colonel,  afterwards 
Sir  Charles  Pearson,  a  court-martial  was  held  on  a 
private  soldier  who  had  stolen  another  man's  rations. 
The  culprit  was  sentenced  to  receive  a  few  strokes  of 
the  "  cat."  When  the  preUminaries  were  being  gone 
through,  on  deck,  Hyde  begged  the  Colonel — if  he 


Vhoto':  Londun  Stereoscopic  Co. 

FTELD-MAKSIIAI.   VISCOTJXT   AVOLSELEY. 


/«-««-^^^     Afhu^n.^iS^ 


hhiijJui 


J.  7-  /^^H^  ^ 


FACSIMILE   OF   VISCOUNT  WOLSELEY  S   HANDWRITING. 


HYDE   INTERVIEWS   A   COUSIN  45 

could  see  his  way — to  forego  the  punishment,  as  his 
ship  had  been  always  free  from  such  inflictions,  and 
he  did  not  wish  her  good  record  broken.  The  Colonel 
acceded  to  the  request,  remitted  the  punishment, 
improved  the  occasion  by  a  judicious  speech  to  the 
rank  and  file,  and  a  eulogy  of  Captain  Hyde  ;  to  whom 
the  Colonel's  wife  afterwards  confided  the  information 
that  her  husband  was  greatly  pleased  to  find  his  way 
out  of  a  very  disagreeable  duty  ;  as  he  loved  his 
regiment  and  his  men,  and  beheved  more  in  kindness 
than  in  punishment. 

But  the  best  story,  to  my  mind,  remains  to  be  told. 
When  in  command  of  a  "  trooper  "  taking  soldiers 
somewhere  or  other,  the  ship  struck  a  reef,  in  a  fog, 
and  foundered.  Fortunately  no  lives  were  lost ;  and 
he  was  comphmented  for  his  coolness  and  courage 
under  the  trying  circumstances.  He  came  home,  and, 
pending  his  appointment  to  another  command,  he 

paid  a  visit  to  a  relative,  Captain  K — — •  W ,  R.N., 

who  was  actively  engaged  in  evangehcal  work,  and 
was  secretary  to  some  rehgious  society  working  among 
sailors.     After  feehngly  discussing  the  wreck.  Captain 

W •  proceeded  to  improve  the  occasion  by  delivery 

of  a  short  lay  sermon  ;  and  wound  up  by  saying  : 
"  Well,  Arthur,  your  Hfe  has  been  spared,  and  you 
should  be  thankful  to  Providence." 

Hyde's  retort  on  the  instant  was  :  "  I'd  be  a  great 
deal  more  thankful  if  Providence  hadn't  sunk  my  ship." 

This  sounds  irreverent ;    but  it  is,  after  all,  only 


46  OMNIANA 

a  seaman's  blunt  way  of  giving  expression  to  a  con- 
troversial point  wliicli  lias  set  dogmatists  by  the  ears 

for  centuries.     Captain  W was  horrified,   who 

would  have  accepted,  w^ithout  question,  the  assertion 
of  Wesley  that,  when  a  horse  ran  away  with  him,  the 
animal  was  instigated  by  the  devil ;  but  that  his 
stopping  was  prompted  by  Providence  ;  which  is  a 
"  tall  order  " — for  one  naturally  asks,  as  no  doubt 
Hyde  would  have  asked,  why  the  beneficent  influence 
was  not  exercised  in  the  first  instance  to  prevent  the 
running  away. 


AND  here,  disregarding,  as  I  have  habitually  done, 
all  chronological  sequence,  I  must  relate 
another,  and  final,  Hyde  story — this  time  con- 
nected with  my  sister.  She  was  living  in  London  at 
the  time  of  the  great  Fenian  scare,  and  the  alarming 
bomb  outrages — such  as  the  attempt  to  blow  up 
Clerkenwell  prison — committed  by  the  American- 
Irish  of  the  school  of  Patrick  Ford  and  0 'Donovan 
Eossa.  I  wrote  to  her  inviting  myself  on  a  visit. 
She  replied  that  my  advent  w^ould  be  opportune,  as 
she  had  just  got  a  nervous  young  country  girl  as 
parlour-maid,  who  had  never  seen  an  Irishman  ;  and 
was  in  fear  and  trembling  lest  she  should  be  blown 
up,  or  otherwise  violently  done  away.    The  night  of 


A  PARLOUR-MAID'S  PERPLEXITY      47 

my  arrival,  Mrs.  Hyde  summoned  the  girl,  in  a  voice 
audible  to  me  on  the  doorstep — 

"  There's  an  Irishman  outside,  Jane.  Open  the 
hall  door.  Don't  be  frightened  ;  come  along,  I'll  go 
with  you." 

When  I  was  inside,  and  had  got  through  with  my 
brotherly  salutation,  I  made  indirect  overtures  to  the 
enemy  by  saying  :  "  I  suppose  this  is  your  maid." 

"  Yes,  that's  Jane." 

"  Well,  Jane,"  I  said,  "  how  do  you  do  ?  "  and  I 
held  out  my  hand  ;  but  she  was  too  scared  to  take 
it ;  and  I  was  obhged  to  do  all  the  shaking  for  her. 

Next  morning  after  breakfast  I  was  surprised  to 
see  my  sister  carefully  disposing  of  the  egg  shells  in 
the  fireplace.  She  answered  my  questioning  look 
with  a  laugh. 

*'  You  just  keep  quiet,  Jim,  and  you'll  have  a  full 
explanation  presently,"  she  said. 

I  subsided  behind  the  newspaper.  Jane  entered 
to  remove  the  breakfast  things  ;  and,  when  halfway 
through,  came  to  a  halt,  and  was,  evidently,  a  bit 
bewildered  :  she,  in  fact,  missed  the  shells. 

"  AVhat's  the  matter  with  you,  girl  ?  "  queried  my 
sister. 

"  The — the — eggs,  ma'am,"  said  Jane,  tentatively 
looking  round  the  table. 

"  Oh,  never  mind  them,"  explained  the  mistress. 
"  It's  all  right." 

Poor  Jane,  evidently  perturbed,  proceeded  with 


48  OMNIANA 

her  work  haltingly,  and  Mrs.  Hyde  had  to  rally  her 
again. 

"  Why,  what  on  earth  are  you  about,  Jane  ?  Why 
don't  you  clear  away  ?  One  would  think  you  were 
— looking  for  the  egg  shells." 

"  So  I  was,  ma'am,"  responded  Jane,  promptly. 

"  Why,  you  young  goose,"  exclaimed  my  sister, 
"  don't  you  know,  they  always  eat  the  shells  in 
Ireland." 

I  hid  myself,  still  behind  the  newspaper,  while  the 
girl  now  made  feverish  haste  to  clear  away,  and 
departed.  My  sister  went  off  into  a  fit  of  laughter, 
and  I  remonstrated  with  her  in  vain. 

"  Well,  Loo,"  I  said,  "  leaving  my  digestive  repu- 
tation out  of  the  question,  it  seems  hardly  fair  to  the 
creature." 

"  Oh  !  nonsense,"  she  retorted,  "  it  will  do  her 
all  the  good  in  the  world.  I'll  straighten  matters  up, 
by-and-by." 

And,  there  I  had  to  leave  it ;  however,  in  the 
sequel,  Jane  and  I  parted  very  good  friends  indeed. 


BUT  it  is  time  I  retraced  my  steps  :  I  have  not 
done  with  school  yet.     After  a  year  or  so's 
sojourn  at  Blackrock,  it  was  decided  by  the 
Principal  to  transfer  his  scholastic  activities  to  the 


SCHOOL  SUNDAYS  49 

metropolis  ;  taking  with  him  a  "  choice  selection  " 
of  his  original  "  stock  "  of  pupils,  of  whom  I  was  one  ; 
and  here,  in  DubHn,  my  education  was  completed 
(as  far  as  it  went). 

I  have  to  record  no  more  startling  incident  to 
break  the  monotony  of  my  school  life  than  one  fight, 
in  which  I  got  worsted,  and  retired  with  a  black 
eye  and  a  bloody  nose  ;  but,  the  motives  for  the 
encounter  and  the  name  of  the  victor  have  escaped 
my  memory  ;  and,  whether  or  not  he,  subsequently, 
succeeded  in  the  battle  of  life,  I  am,  therefore,  unable 
to  say. 

That  which  has  an  abiding  place  in  my  memory 
is  the  misery  of  my  Dubhn  school  Sundays.  The 
chief  plank  in  our  master's  educational  platform 
was  the  planting  in  our  youthful  breasts  the  tenets 
of  the  Church  of  Ireland,  as  by  law  estabhshed.  It 
was  a  speciahty,  and  occupied  the  forefront  of  his 
prospectus  ;  and,  as  a  consequence,  we  boys  felt  the 
results  severely.  Sunday  became  a  day  of  suffering. 
We  were  in  close  touch  with  Baggot  Street  church  ; 
and,  wet  or  dry,  there  was  no  escape.  It  was  then 
the  home  of  pure  and  unadulterated  Evangelicahsm. 
The  fabric  stands  to-day,  as  it  stood  then,  displaying 
a  pretentious  cement  front  of  "  carpenter's  Gothic," 
and  a  nondescript  rear  of  rough  masonry  which  may 
be  described  as  "  Georgian."  Later  on,  in  London, 
I  heard  some  doggerel  Unes  recited,  as  descriptive  of 
a  new  conventicle  there,  which  apply  equally  to  the 

E 


50  OMNIANA 

exterior  of  this  church  in  Baggot  Street.  They  told 
how  its  builders  essayed  a  front — 

"  that  aped  Westminster  Abbey ; 
And  then  they  thought  to  cheat  the  Lord, 
And  built  the  back  side  shabby." 

The  interior  is  an  oblong  structure,  which  has  galleries 
on  two  sides  and  one  end  ;  and,  at  the  other  end,  a 
communion  space,  railed  off  in  lieu  of  a  chancel.  In 
my  young  days,  the  pulpit  was  fixed  high  up,  in  the 
wall,  over  this  space,  and  was  approached  by  a  door 
leading  from  an  invisible  stairs  at  the  other  side  of 
this  wall ;  but,  in  more  recent  times,  it  has  been 
dropped  down,  on  to  a  platform  behind  the  com- 
munion  table. 

It  was  our  hapless  lot,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  to 
sit  out  monotonous  sermons,  which  generally  lasted 
from  forty  to  fifty  minutes,  dehvered  alternately,  after 

morning  and  evening  services,  by  the  Kev.  V ■ 

(afterwards  a  bishop)  and  his  curate.  We  had  also 
to  endure  a  protracted  Sunday  school,  held  in  a  big 
room  over  the  entrance  ;  and  to  learn  the  collect  for 
the  day  and  "  say  "  it — if  a  short  one  we  thanked  our 
stars,  if  a  long  one  we  had  to  "  stay  in  "  till  we  con- 
quered it.  Our  greatest  trial  was — when  hstening  to 
long-winded  sermons,  on  winter  evenings — endeavour- 
ing to  keep  awake,  as  we  sat  in  rows,  upstairs  ;  with 
the  foul  air  from  below  shimmering  visibly  around 
the  globes  of  the  gas  jets  which  projected  from  the 
gallery  fronts  ;  and  with  the  sour  countenance  of  our 


SCHOOL  SUNDAYS  51 

Principal,  ever  on  the  watch  to  catch  us  napping. 
If  he  did  catch  us,  it  meant  severe  punishment,  in 
the  shape  of  writing  out  a  psalm,  or  so  many  lines  of 
Virgil  or  Horace,  so  many  times  over,  which  involved 
staying  in,  till  the  task  was  performed.  However, 
a  happy  thought  occurred  to  me  which  got  over  this 
difficulty  most  effectually.  I  ruled  a  sheet  of  paper 
the  size  of  my  prayer-book,  into  several  columns, 
headed  *'  brethren,"  '"  dearly  beloved,"  '"  beloved 
brethren,"  and  other  set  phrases  in  frequent  use  by 
the  two  reverend  gentlemen,  and  ticked  them  off  as 
uttered.  This  device  not  only  gave  a  factitious 
interest  to  the  long-winded  sermons,  which  had  the 
desired  effect  of  keeping  me  awake,  but  left  it  to 
be  inferred  that  I  was  assiduously  taking  notes.  I 
imparted  the  secret  to  my  school  chum ;  and  this 
conduced  to  the  effectiveness  of  the  scheme  ;  as  we 
were  on  our  mettle,  and  compared  notes,  after  each 
sermon,  to  check  our  tots. 

The  outer  aspect  of  the  two  clergymen  has  never 

faded  from  my  memory.    The  Rev.  V was  a  tall, 

very  handsome  man,  with  a  small  head  and  a  fixed 
smile  that  never  left  his  face.  He  only  wanted  ^vings 
to  complete  his  angelic  appearance.  The  curate  was 
his  physical  antithesis,  whose  head  was  the  most 
prominent  feature ;  and  if,  in  my  imagination,  I 
assigned  him  wings,  I  could  only  picture  him  shedding 
his  body,  and  changed  into  a  cherub  with  the  wings 
behind  his  ears,  and  "  buzzin'  an'  boomin'  about "  as 


52  OMNIANA 

Tennyson  says  in  one  of  his  poems.  But  there  was 
no  transformation  :  the  two  were  palpable,  long- 
winded,  intolerable  bores,  whom  we  had  to  put  up 
with,  as  part  and  parcel  of  our  miserable  Sundays, 
I  derived  no  benefit  whatever  from  their  wearisome 
and  dismal  discourses ;  but  doubtless  the  fault  was 
wholly  my  own. 

Sometimes,  whether  we  would  or  not,  our  thoughts 
wandered  in  boyish  fashion — at  least  mine  did — into 
speculative  regions,  seeking  information  but  not  always 
finding  it.  I  recall,  for  instance,  how  dreadfully  hard 
it  was  to  beheve  that  the  hairs  of  my  head  were  all 
numbered  ;  and  thought  what  a  lot  of  trouble  it  must 
give  the  angels  to  "  keep  count,"  and  how  much  of  it 
might  be  saved  by  waiting,  till  I  became  bald. 

The  lay  teacher  who  presided  over  my  class  in 
Sunday  school  looms  very  distinct  in  my  memory. 
He  was  a  young  man,  kindly  and  enthusiastic,  of  a 
fresh  countenance ;  and,  from  his  aspect,  I  concluded 
that  he  used  "  oil  which  maketh  the  face  to  shine  "  : 
in  fact  he  glowed.  His  knowledge  of  Scripture  was 
astonishing.  He  could  find  texts  for  everything  on 
the  instant,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  his  large,  hmp- 
bound  Bible  with  extraordinary  rapidity  ;  but,  take 
him  off  the  theological  high-road,  and  he  lost  his  way 
hopelessly.  Looking  back  through  the  vista  of  years, 
it  seems  to  me  that,  probably,  his  chief  inspiration  was 
Chilhngworth's  Religion  of  Protestants  (with  perhaps 
a   dash  of    my  old  acquaintance,  Doddridge).     But 


CHILLINGWORTH  53 

here  let  me  not  be  thought  to  disparage  ChilHng- 
worth's  great  book,  which  appeared  none  too  soon. 
For  centuries  "  the  Church,"  says  Lecky,  "  had  cursed 
the  moral  faculty  by  asserting  the  guilt  of  honest 
error.  It  remained  for  lum  to  teach  for  the  first  time, 
or  nearly  the  first  time,  the  absolute  innocence  of  it." 
This  ethical  asset,  bequeathed  by  ChilHngworth  to  us, 
leaves  humanity  for  ever  his  debtor.  The  facts 
recorded  about  him  account  for  much.  Archbishop 
Laud  was  his  godfather  ;  when  he  came  to  manhood, 
he  renounced  the  reformed  creed,  and  became  a 
Roman  Catholic  ;  subsequently  he  returned  to  the 
fold.  No  doubt  the  incidents  of  his  career  led  him 
irresistibly  to  the  far-reaching  conclusion  which  he 
drew  ;  and  which  was  based  on  his  absolute  sincerity 
of  purpose  in  the  search  for  truth.  "  The  age  of 
heresiarchs  is  past,"  continues  Lecky  ;  and  certainly 
the  behef  in  "  the  absolute  innocence  of  honest  error  " 
has  hastened  its  departure. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  this  lay  teacher  went  in  for  the 
entire  Evangelical  programme,  including  verbal  in- 
spiration, an  anthropomorphic  deity,  and  a  personal 
devil.  I  remember  asking  him,  in  class  on  Sunday, 
when  we  were  reading  about,  and  he  was  expounding, 
the  temptation  of  Eve,  what  form  of  locomotion  the 
serpent  was  in  the  habit  of  practising  before  the  curse 
"  on  thy  belly  shalt  thou  go  " — whether  on  his  head 
or  his  tail  (if  a  serpent  can  be  said  to  have  a  tail)  ; 
but  he  evaded  the  question,  which  is,  I  admit,  such  a 


54  OMNIANA 

difficult  one  to  answer,  that — even  now — I  hesitate 
to  put  it  to  anybody  else.  But  nothing,  I  am  con- 
vinced, could  shake  this  man's  faith  in,  or  veneration 
for,  the  Bible.  There  existed,  in  my  young  days, 
a  large  and  very  popular  engraving  which  must  have 
forcibly  appealed  to  him.  I  have  not  seen  it  for 
years.  It  represented  Queen  Victoria  presenting 
the  sacred  volume  to  a  negro,  who  was  receiving  it 
with  all  due  reverence  and  deference.  The  picture 
bore  at  foot  the  legend  :  "  The  Bible,  the  source  of 
England's  greatness  "• — or  words  to  that  effect. 
In  the  opinion  of  my  teacher  all  the  negro  had  to  do 
was  to  *'  search  the  Scriptures  "  in  order  to  be  con- 
vinced, converted,  and  brought  into  line  ;  but  looking 
at  the  matter  in  my  old  age,  impartially,  and  without 
imparting  super-sensitiveness  to  the  black  recipient 
of  the  book,  it  occurs  to  me  that,  while  he  might  not 
boggle  over  the  ethics  of  the  Pentateuch  (as  being 
very  much  his  own),  even  he  would  be  arrested  in  his 
progress  towards  reformation  by  a  passage,  which  I 
have  not  the  temerity  to  give  in  the  vulgar  tongue — 
Et  quasi  subcinericium  hordeaceum  comedes 

illud :     et   stercore   quod   egreditur   de   homine 

operies  illud  in  oculis  eorum. 

Et  dixit  Dominus  :    Sic  comedent  filii  Israel 

panem   suum   pollutum   inter   Gentes   ad    quas 

ejiciam  eos. 

Et  dixi :    A.  a.  a.  Domine  Deus  ecce  anima 

mea  non  est  polluta  et  morticinum  et  laceratum 


VATICAN  DECREE  55 

a  bestiis  non  comedi  ab  infantia  mea  usque  nunc 

et  non  est  ingressa  in  os  meum  onmis  caro, 

immunda. 

Et  dixit  ad  me :  Ecce  dedi  tibi  fimum  bourn  pro 

stercoribus  humanis ;  et  facies  panem  tuum  in  eo. 
One  can  easily  understand  though  we  may  not 
agree  with  it,  why  the  Vatican  issued  the  decree  : 
*'  As  it  is  manifest  that  if  the  use  of  the  Holy  writers 
**  is  permitted,  in  the  vulgar  tongue,  more  evil  than 
"  profit  will  arise,  it  is,  for  this  reason,  all  Bibles  are 
*''  prohibited,  whether  they  be  printed  or  written,  in 
"  whatever  vulgar  language  soever ;  as  also  are  pro- 
"  hibited,  all  summaries  or  abridgments  of  Bibles, 
"  or  any  books  of  the  Holy  writings.  But  the  reading 
"  of  Bibles  by  Catholic  editors  may  be  permitted  to 
"  those  by  whose  perusal  or  power  the  faith  be  spread, 
*'  and  who  will  not  criticise  it.  This  permission  is  not 
"  to  be  granted  without  an  express  order  of  the  Bishop 
"  or  the  Inquisitor,  with  the  advice  of  the  curate  and 
"  confessor.  And  he  who  presumes  to  read  the  Holy 
"  writings,  or  to  have  them  in  his  possession,  shall  not 
"  be  absolved  of  his  sins  before  he  shall  first  have 
"  returned  the  Bible  to  the  Bishop."  Surely,  a 
profound  sense  of  expediency  was  of  the  essence  of 
this  prohibition  ;  which  did  not  interfere  with  the 
dogmatic  propaganda  of  the  Faith.* 

To  return  to  my  Sunday  school  instructor.     As 
his  task  was  voluntary,  it  should,   I   admit,  have 
*  See  note,  page  287. 


56  OMNI  ANA 

commanded  more  respect ;  but  we  boys  would  rather 
have  been  in  the  playground  ;  and,  inasmuch  as  our 
attendance  was  compulsory,  his  influence,  as  a  conse- 
quence, was  not  what  it  might  have  been.  Half  a 
century  or  so  after  I  had  lost  sight  of  him,  I  happened 
to  go  into  a  well-known  bookshop  in  Grafton  Street, 
and,  lo  !  to  my  astonishment,  behind  the  counter 
I  beheld  the  still  smihng  and  shining  face,  so  well 
remembered,  of  F^ — — ,  my  quondam  teacher — little 
altered  and  wonderfully  preserved.  Time  had  dealt 
more  tenderly  with  him  than  with  me.  I  recognised 
him  on  the  instant,  and  introduced  myself  with  a 
flattering  reference  to  the  indehble  impression  he 
made  upon  my  youthful  mind — which  greatly  pleased 
him.  He  has  passed,  long  since,  beyond  the  reach  of 
praise  or  blame  ;  and  the  name  of  the  instigator  or 
founder  of  Sunday  schools  (which  I  am  sorry  to  say 
I  forget)  is  held  in  honour  throughout  the  Empire. 


THEOLOGY  is  a  very  thorny  subject  to  touch 
upon ;  but  is,  or  should  be,  of  interest  to  every. 
body.  It  is,  too  often,  made  so  repulsive  to 
youth,  by  what  may  be  described  as  "  forcible  feeding," 
that  the  study  of  it  is  repudiated  as  we  advance  to 
manhood  ;  and,  in  middle  age,  the  system  rejects  what 
it  cannot  assimilate  and  which  only  conduces  to  moral 
dyspepsia. 


CREEDS  57 

In  truth  the  reUgious  training  of  the  great  majority 
of  boys  runs  pretty  much  on  the  same  hues,  all  round. 
The  family  creed  is,  simply,  inherited  ;    and  in  the 
early  stages  of  childhood,  our  God  is  anthropomorphic. 
Whoever  is  the  oracle  of  the  nursery  becomes  his 
prototype  ;   and  this  prototype  is,  nearly  always,  the 
tender  and  loving  mother,  at  whose  knees  we  say  our 
first  prayers.     But,  as  we  grow,  the  reality  fails  to 
satisfy,  when  we  find  that  our  supplications  for  the 
good  things  of  this  world,  which  were  answered  by  her, 
remain  disregarded  and  unheard.     We  begin  first  to 
question,  then  to  doubt ;    and,  in  due  course,  are 
passed  on  to  the  public  school,  with  its  authoritative 
pastor  and  master — usually  a  clergyman — who  meets 
our  difficulties  with  a  cut  and  dry  exegesis  which 
explains  nothing  ;   and  who  endeavours  to  stamp  out 
our  curiosity  instead  of  satisfying  it.     Our  mental 
diet  is  changed  from  the  maternal  milk  to  scholastic 
pap  ;    and,  as  the  boy  grows,  this  pabulum  is  con- 
sohdated,   run   into   the    conventional   moulds,    and 
turned  out  for  consumption.     That  which  was  plastic 
is  made  sohd  ;    and,  when  coloured  and  flavoured, 
according  to  the  rules  and  requirements  of  the  par- 
ticular sect  or  faith  into  which  he  happens  to  be  born — 
Church  of  England,  Ireland,  or  Rome,  Presbyterian, 
Methodist,  Unitarian,  Baptist,  or  one  of  the  many 
subdivisions    of    which   the   variety   is   endless — he 
has  to  be  content.     He  reaches  manhood,  with  the 
conviction  forced  upon  him,  that,  to  indulge  in  any 


58  OMNIANA 

dogmatic  rations,  or  spiritual  viands  other  than  those 
on  which  he  has  been  nurtured  and  brought  up, 
means  ultimate  disaster — and  he  does  not  risk  it ; 
but  looks  on,  in  after  hfe,  with  a  snmg  feehng  of 
security  while  theologians  wrangle.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  enters  the  arena  of  controversy  at  all,  he 
does  so  with  the  full  conviction  that  his  own  behef  is 
the  only  true  one  ;  and  wages  war  against  his  neigh- 
bours with  the  best  intentions,  but  with  the  worse 
possible  weapons — intolerance  and  coercion. 

It  must  be,  I  think,  admitted  that  heredity,  as 
apphed  to  creeds,  has  a  good  deal  to  be  said  in  its 
favour ;  and  it  is  well  if  the  religion  of  the  parents 
suffices  for  the  children :  it  saves  a  lot  of  trouble. 
Dogmatic  epicures,  who  can't  be  satisfied  with  what 
has  been  provided  for  them,  have  fomented  all  the 
turmoil  in  the  past ;  cause  it  now  ;  and  will  continue 
to  cause  it  in  the  future  ;  while  the  scientist  and  the 
evolutionist  are,  steadily  and  surely,  undermining  the 
"  household  of  faith,"  which  bids  fair  to  overwhelm 
all  the  controversialists  in  its  ruins.  However,  up 
to  the  present,  there  has  been  always  enough  of 
stalwart  fighters  ;  and  the  battle  of  beliefs  is  incessant. 

But  noise  which  is  continuous  and  unbroken 
becomes  akin  to  silence  ;  one  grows  used  to  it,  and 
does  not  heed  it  any  more  than  the  din  of  city  streets, 
or  the  cawing  of  a  rookery.  I,  myself,  when  the  final 
"  exposition  of  sleep  "  comes  upon  me,  shall,  I  trust, 
be  deaf  to  the  crepitude  of  creeds.     I  only  hope  that 


I   GO   TO  ENGLAND  59 

my  last  sleep  of  second  childhood,  in  the  lap  of  Mother 
Earth,  may  be  as  restful  as  the  first  sleep  of  infancy 
on  the  maternal  breast.  Meanwhile  I  cannot  choose 
but  follow  and  venerate  the  creed  which  I  inherit. 


AD.  1850  was  an  epoch-making  date  for  me.  I 
was  then  in  my  sixteenth  year  ;  and  when 
I  got  home  for  my  Christmas  holidays  in 
December,  1849,  I  found  that  it  had  been  arranged, 
at  the  suggestion  of  my  uncle,  Sir  Arthur  Helps,  that 
I  should  go  to  England,  to  him,  with  a  view  to  be 
diagnosed  as  to  the  trend  of  my  incUnations  and 
capabilities,  and  with  the  ultimate  intention  of  putting 
me  to  a  profession.  This  was  glorious  news  for  an 
unfledged  Irish  boy,  full  of  the  joy  of  life,  and  eager 
to  extend  his  knowledge  of  men  and  things.  Early 
in  May  all  the  preliminaries  of  outfit  were  completed  ; 
and  it  was  settled  that  I  should  be  entrusted  to  the 
care  of  a  friend  who  undertook  to  hand  me  over 
safely  to  Sir  Arthur's  accredited  representative. 

When  the  day  came  for  departure  from  dear, 
beautiful  Kerry,  I  felt  that,  next  to  father  and  mother, 
the  person  whom  I  should  miss  most  was  the  fine  old 
parish  priest.  Father  Welsh  ;  with  whom  I  often  put 
in  a  strenuous  day's  coursing — a  sport  of  which  he 
was  very  fond  and  which  meant  vigorous  exercise, 


GO  OMNIANA 

tramping  mountains,  jumping  rocks,  fording  streams, 
and  negotiating  bogs  ;  giving  the  greyhounds,  as 
well  as  ourselves,  enough  to  do,  and  the  hare  a  sporting 
chance  of  escape. 

He  was  in  every  sense  a  grand  old  man — physically, 
mentally  and  morally,  and  a  thorough  gentleman  ; 
beloved  by  his  flock,  and  standing  high  in  the  estima- 
tion of  all  the  Protestant  gentry  of  the  parish,  includ- 
ing the  members  of  the  family  of  the  learned  Dr. 
Graves,  Dean  of  the  Chapel  Eoyal,  and  afterwards 
Bishop  of  Limerick,  who  resided  at  Parknasilla; 
and  he  was  moreover  the  original  of  "  Father 
O'Flynn,"  rendered  famous  by  the  bishop's  son, 
Alfred  Perceval  Graves,  in  the  song  with  that  title, 
always  sung  with  such  rapturous  applause  by  Signor 
Foli,  an  Irishman,  whose  real  name  was  Foley,  but 
who  changed  it  to  suit  the  fashion  of  the  time.*  I 
recall  one  verse  which  needs  no  apology  for  intro- 
ducing it — 

"  Oh  !  Father  O'Flynn,  you've  the  wonderful  way  with  you, 
All  the  old  sinners  are  wishful  to  pray  with  you, 
All  the  young  childer  are  wild  for  to  play  with  you. 
You've  such  a  way  with  you.  Father  avick ; 
Still  for  all  you're  so  gentle  a  soul, 
Gad,  you've  your  flock  in  the  grandest  control, 
Checkin'  the  crazy  ones, 
Coaxin'  onaisy  ones, 
Liftin'  the  lazy  ones  on  with  the  stick." 

*  Another  case  in  point  which  I  remember  was  that  of  Signor 
SuUivani,  professor  of  deportment  and  dancing,  whose  patronimic 
was  Sullivan  ;  also  that  of  the  great  tenor  Campobello,  who  was  a 
Campbell, 


"FATHER  O'FLYNN"  61 

The  good  Father's  reply  to  his  Diocesan  who  charged 
him  with  levity,  was  irresistible  when  voiced  by 
Foh— 

"Is  it  lave  gaiety 
All  to  the  laity  ? 
Cannot  the  clargy  be  Irishmen  too  ?  " 

Father  Welsh  celebrated  early  Mass,  on  alternate 
Sundays,  at  Sneem  and  Tahilla ;  and,  returning 
from  the  latter,  he  passed  near  our  entrance  gate, 
where  I  invariably  watched  for  him  to  pick  me  up, 
getting  him  to  drive  me  to  the  Protestant  church  in 
Sneem — the  gate  of  which  he  had  to  pass  on  the  way 
to  his  presbytery. 

He  spoke  Irish  fluently — ^which  was  necessary  in 
a  parish  where  not  a  few  peasants  in  those  days  spoke 
no  Enghsh  ;  and,  at  Petty  Sessions,  he  frequently 
sat  on  the  Bench  with  my  uncles  Bland  and  Hyde, 
not  only  to  interpret  and  explain  to  them,  but  also  to 
exhort,  in  the  native  tongue,  htigants  who  sometimes 
were  not  averse  to  giving  a  "  twist  "  to  their  evidence, 
and  were  not  sufi&ciently  alive  to  the  obligations  of 
an  oath.  They  might  lie  to  the  magistrate ;  but  to 
forswear  themselves  to  the  parish  priest  was  unthink- 
able. Generally,  too,  he  had  mastered  both  sides  of 
the  case  before  it  came  to  be  tried.  He  was  a  large- 
bodied,  as  well  as  a  large-hearted  man  ;  and  the 
physical  exercise  which  his  sporting  pursuits  involved 
was  necessary. 

I  recall  an  amusing  incident,  as  the  result  of  a 
day's  grouse  shooting.     He  sent,  next  morning,   a 


62  OMNI  AN  A 

local  "  character,"  the  village  dummy,  with  a  present 
of  birds  to  Dr.  Graves.  The  explanatory  label  got 
lost  on  the  way  to  Parknasilla  ;  the  servant  could 
not  understand  the  mumblings  of  the  dummy,  and 
Dr.  Graves  had  ultimately  to  interview  him.  The 
difficulty  was,  to  ascertain  who  had  sent  the  game. 
Several  names,  were  mentioned,  but  the  dummy 
shook  his  head  negatively ;  when,  suddenly,  an 
inspiration  seized  him.  Bringing  his  big  stick, 
promptly,  to  the  "  present,"  he  uttered  a  loud 
"  cHck  "  with  his  tongue  to  signify  the  shot ;  and, 
then,  transferring  the  weapon  to  his  left  hand,  with 
the  right  he  solemnly  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon 
his  breast. 

"  Oh !  to  be  sure !  I  understand,"  said  Dr. 
Graves.  "  Father  Welsh,  of  course,"  and  he  sent  the 
dummy  back  with  a  letter  of  thanks  to  the  parish 
priest,  and  a  Hberal  gratuity  for  himself. 

But  the  good  priest  was  not  without  his  troubles — 
who  is  ?  He  incurred  the  censure  of  Dr.  Moriarty, 
Bishop  of  Kerry,  because  an  aged  woman,  a  parish- 
ioner, died  rather  suddenly,  without  the  last  rites  of 
the  Church  ;  Father  Welsh  was  not  to  be  found, 
being  out  for  a  day's  coursing.  The  fact  came  to  the 
cars  of  the  bishop,  who  was  a  strict  disciphnarian.* 
When  he  arrived  to  investigate  the  charge,  he  was 

*  It  was  he  who  uttered  the  terrible  denunciation  of  the  Fenians, 
in  which  he  said  that — "  Eternity  was  not  long  enough  nor  Hell  hot 
enough,  for  their  punishment  in  the  next  world." 


''FATHER   O'FLYNN"  63 

invited,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  Derriquin  ;  and 
there  the  priest  did  not  lack  whole-hearted  testimony 
in  his  favour.  But  the  bishop  had  to  see  that  so 
grave  a  mishap  should  never  recur,  and  in  addition  to 
admonishing  the  parish  priest  he  "  put  a  curate  on 
him,"  as  a  humble  parishioner  phrased  it,  whose 
stipend  Father  Welsh  had  to  pay  ;  and  since  then,  a 
curate  has  always  to  be  maintained  at  the  cost  of  the 
parish  priest. 

I  must  give  one  more  reminiscence  before  I  take 
leave  of  Father  Welsh.  The  "  old  mistress  "  (as  she 
was  always  called)  of  Derriquin,  when  her  grandson 
entered  into  possession  and  brought  home  a  young 
wife,  resigned  the  reins  of  government,  and  came  to 
reside  at  Glashnacree,  where  she  spent  her  remaining 
years.  During  her  last  illness,  Father  Welsh  was  a 
frequent  caller.  When  the  end  was  very  near,  he 
came ;  and,  in  answer  to  his  inquiry,  my  mother 
expressed  the  belief  that  she  was  calmly  and  peacefully 
passing  away. 

"  Ah  !     Is  that  so  ?     May  I  not  see  her  ?  " 

**  Indeed  you  may.  Father  Welsh.  Come,"  and 
my  mother  led  the  way. 

The  sick-room  was  on  the  ground  floor.  The 
window  of  it  is  a  low  casement  one,  and  the  sash  on 
this  occasion  stood  open.  A  poor  peasant  woman 
standing  on  the  lawn  outside,  saw  the  two  enter  ; 
and  saw  the  priest  stoop,  and  kiss  the  forehead  of  the 
motionless  figure  on  the  bed.     The  woman  outside 


64  OMNIANA 

fell  on  her  knees,  in  prayer ;  and  when  the  priest 
came  out  she  rose,  and  eagerly  accosted  him,  clasping 
her  hands. 

*'  Shure,  Father,  God  be  praised,  there'll  be  a  gap 
open  for  her  in  Heaven — somehow." 

It  was  more  an  asseveration,  than  a  question 
demanding  an  answer  ;   and  was  left  at  that  by  him. 

On  the  day  of  the  funeral,  when  the  hearse  arrived 
from  Kenmare  (fourteen  miles  away),  there  was  a 
large  concourse  of  poor  people  assembled.  Some 
half-dozen  men  came  to  the  hall  door,  to  interview 
my  father,  and  beg  of  him  not  to  allow  the  coffin  to  be 
put  into  the  hearse.  They  would  carry  it  all  the  w^ay 
themselves,  they  said.     He  remonstrated. 

"  Boys,"  he  said  (all  men  are  called  "  boys  "  in 
Kerry),  "it  is  a  great  weight,  and  the  road  is  long  " 
(two  miles). 

"  What  mather,  Mr.  Tom  ;  shure  there's  plenty  of 
us  to  help." 

He  had  to  consent,  and  they  carried  the  coffin  all 
the  way,  in  relays,  four  at  a  time,  to  the  churchyard. 
Such  a  scene  will  not  be  witnessed  again ;  the  old 
order  changeth,  giving  place  to  new.  The  dear  old 
lady  hved  to  rock  the  cradle  of  her  gi'eat-grandchild. 
for  my  first-born  saw  the  light  at  Glashnacree  ;  she 
had  many  wonderful  receipts  for  the  cure  of  ailments 
and  complaints  of  every  description  ;  and  for  more 
than  half  a  century  she  did  all  the  "  doctoring  " 
among  the  poor,  before  the  Dispensary  Act,  which 


LONDON  6'5 

provided  for  resident  medical  men,  came  into  being. 
Great  modern  physicians  with  a  wealth  of  letters  after 
their  names  may  be  contemptuous,  and  incredulous 
as  to  her  skill,  and  the  efficacy  of  her  receipts  and 
prescriptions  ;  nevertheless  the  fact  remains  that  she 
had  wonderful  "  cures  " — among  them  one  for  scrofula 
or  King's  evil,  which,  in  past  times,  restored  many 
sufferers  to  perfect  health. 


SEVERAL  pages  back,  I  stated  that  I  was  bound 
for  England  ;  and  then  I,  abruptly  and  un- 
warrantably, broke  into  this  long  digression  ; 
but  I  am  "  at  times  hopelessly  disposed  to  the  circum- 
ambagious  in  my  manner  of  narration  "  * — for  which 
I  fear  there  is  no  cure. 

Having  been  entrusted  to  the  care  of  a  reliable 
friend,  I  travelled  by  Cork  and  Bristol,  on  my  first 
eventful  jom^ney  to  London  ;  and  was  safely  handed 
over  to  the  care  of  a  little  man  named  Morgan — my 
uncle's  man  of  business — on  the  afternoon  of  May 
the  9th,  1850.  I  am  able  to  fix  this  date  because  old 
Mr.  Morgan  took  me,  that  evening,  to  the  Haymarket 
to  see  the  Cat's  Paw,  by  Douglas  Jerrold,  on  the  first 
night  of  its  production,  which  was  also  my  first  night 
at  a  theatre  ;    but,  what  it  was  all  about,  I  hadn't 

*  Soutboy'ti  Doctor. 


66  OMNIANA 

the  faintest  idea.  We  sat  in  the  middle  of  the  pit ; 
and  every  one  laughed,  and  clapped  hands,  and 
pounded  the  Hoor  with  walking-sticks.  I  was  dazed 
and  bewildered.  1  missed  the  mountain  air  of  Kerry  ; 
and  the  poisonous  atmosphere,  and  the  gas,  and  the 
heat,  and  the  din  stupefied  me,  and  gave  me  a  sphtting 
headache,  and  a  thumping  sensation  inside  my  skull 
Avhicli  was  quite  new  to  me,  and  the  memory  of  which 
survives.  However,  next  morning  I  was  all  right, 
and  ready  for  a  journey  into  Hampsliire.  My  uncle 
Helps  '^  lived  then  at  Vernon  Hill,  near  Bishop's 
Waltham.  Mr.  Morgan  sent  his  son  to  see  me  safely 
dehvered  over  to  the  embraces  of  my  aunt  and  the 
no  less  kindly  greeting  of  my  uncle,  from  both  of 
whom  then  and  afterwards  I  experienced  a  kindness 
and  consideration  which  could  not  be  exceeded,  and 
was  out  of  all  proportion  to  my  deserts. 

It  was  a  momentary  shock  to  me  to  find  my  aunt  a 
beautifully-amazing  hkeness  of  Uncle  Jack,  of  whom  I 
have  discoursed  in  previous  pages.  I  had  rather  she 
resembled  my  father  ;  but  I  had  no  difficulty  in  getting 
over  this  disappointment ;  and  cpiite  forgot  it  in  the 
warmth  of  my  reception.     Both  had  the  happy  knack 

*  (Sir  Arthur  Helps  was  the  author  of  many  books,  Frkiids  in 
Council  ;  Companions  of  my  Solitude  ;  Social  Pressure  ;  Animals  and 
their  Masters  ;  The  Spanish  Conquest  in  America  ;  novels,  dramas,  etc., 
etc.  He  was  a  great  favourite  with  the  Royal  Tamily,  and  induced 
the  Queen  to  permit  the  pubUcation  of  her  diary — Lije  in  the  Highlands 
— which  he  edited.  He  was  immensely  popular  in  social,  literary,  and 
political  circles  ;  and  I  doubt  if  he  had  a  single  enemy. 


SIR    AKTUl'R    IIKLI'S,    K.C.B. 


GUESTS  AT  VERNON  HILL  67 

of  making  me  feel  at  home  at  once.  My  uncle's 
cheery  greeting — "  Well,  boy  " — with  his  hand  upon 
my  shoulder,  and  the  remark,  "I'm  very  glad  old 
Morgan  brought  you  here  safely,"  emboldened  an 
impromptu  witticism,  which  came  in  the  nature  of  an 
inspiration  :  "  Not  old  Morgan,"  I  rephed,  "  but  his 
son — Novum  {31)orgaiium,  you  know,"  which  tickled 
my  uncle  hugely  ;  and  struck  me  as  being  so  clever 
that  I  made  a  mental  note  of  it.  It  recalls  now,  to 
my  recollection,  a  remark  I  came  across  recently, 
made  by  Tammas  the  stone-breaker,  in  one  of  J.  M. 
Barrie's  books  :  "  There  was  ac  time  an'  I  said  a 
terrible  sarcastic  thing.  I  dinna  mind  what  it  was, 
but  it  was  muchly  sarcastic,"  with  this  dilfercncc, 
that  I  didn't  forget  my  impromptu  wit.  It  flattered 
my  vanity  to  be  introduced  to  my  uncle's  guests — 
to  whom  he  retailed  it — as  a  "  student  of  Bacon  "  ; 
and  this,  doubtless,  helped  to  fix  the  fact  in  my 
memory. 

These  guests  were  twO' — James  E.  Doyle  and  John 
Hullah.  Doyle  was  an  author,'''  a  bachelor,  and  an 
artist,  son  of  the  famous  "  H.  B."  and  brother  of  the 
no  less  famous  Richard  Doyle  of  Punch.  He  had  a 
very  shiny,  unhandsome,  good-humoured,  Irish  face, 
and  laughed  silently  in  his  stomach,  which  resulted 
in  semi-convulsions  about  that  region  ;  and  a  suffused 
smile  all  over  his  face,  that  spent  itself  in  a  breezy 

*  He  wrote  Chroniclers  of  Eiigla)ul,  B.C.  55  lo  A.D.   1485 ;    The 
Official  Baroiuiijc  of  England,  illubtralcd  by  his  own  pencil,  etc.,  etc. 


68  OMNIANA 

wliccze  tliroLigh  liis  nose,  ttuggestivc  of  letting  oil" 
the  pressure.  He  was  a  genial,  lovable,  learned  and 
pious  Konian  Catholic,  and  a  very  great  favourite  at 
Vernon  Hill.  The  other  guest,  John  HuUah,  was  the 
well-known  tonic-sol-fa  nuisician  ;  an  "  exquisite," 
whose  deep  luminous  orbs  and  languid  movements 
somehow  suggested  the 

"  Mild-cycd,  mclauulioly  Lotus  calcr," 

very  good  looking,  very  refined,  whose  laughter  was 
always  restrained,  quiet,  and  under  complete  control — 
in  fact,  he  gave  one  the  idea  that  he  would  rather  not 
laugh  at  all  if  it  could  be  avoided.'''  He,  too,  was  a 
great  favourite  with  both  aunt  and  uncle  ;  for  they 
passionately  loved  nmsic — as,  indeed,  did  James 
Doyle,  who  played  the  violoncello  exceptionally  well. 
This  instrument,  by-the-bye,  was  always  spoken 
respectfully  of  as  ''  Mrs.  Doyle,*'  and  always  accoiu- 
panicd  its  owner  to  Vernon  Hill.  1  had  an  exception- 
ally enjoyable  time  for  long  after  my  arrival.  Among 
the  early  acquaintances  I  made  there  was  J.  W. 
Parker,  Junior,  my  uncle's  publisher,  and  Dr.  Phelps,! 
Master  of  Sidney-Sussex  College,  Cambridge. 

Later   acquaintances— hterary  celebrities — I  rele- 
gate to  a  subsequent  portion  of  this  chronicle. 

*  Hullah  composed  the  Village  Coquelle,  which  Avas  staged  with 
success — the  words  being  by  Dickens. 

t  He  was  a  brother  of  the  actor-manager,  ISamuel  Phelps  of  tSadlcr's 
Wells,  whom  London  playgoers  looked  on  as  the  leading  tragedian  of 
his  day,  who  accepted  !Sir  Arthur  Helps'  drama  of  OuUla,  and  was  to 
have  produced  it ;  but  his  iihiess  and  death  intervened. 


I   TRY  ENGINEERING  G9 

Dr.  Phelps  was  iin  old  college  friend  of  Sir  Arthur, 
and  was  a  first-rate  water-colour  artist,  as  well  as  a 
profound  scholar  ;  and  had,  moreover,  a  most  charm- 
ing personality — that  special  gift,  which  so  many- 
pedagogues  lack,  of  getting  into  sympathy  with  boys— 
which  won  my  confidence  immediately,  so  much  so 
that  he  had  no  difficulty  in  inducing  me  to  submit 
to  a  test  examination  as  to  my  acquirements.  It 
proved  satisfactory,  and  the  result  pleased  Dr.  Phelps. 
Then  it  became  a  question  of  a  profession — a  point 
which  he,  my  uncle,  and  myself  frequently  discussed 
before  reaching  a  decision. 

I  thought  1  should  like  mechanical  engineering 
above  all  others  ;  so,  I  was  taken  to  Southampton— 
an  easy  journey  from  A^ernon  Hill— to  see,  and  go 
through  the  great  establishment  of  Summers,  Day  and 
Baldock,  where  all  kinds  of  machinery  were  in  use, 
engines  turned  out,  and  no  end  of  fascinating  wonders 
^vere  to  be  seen.  The  principal  partner  was  the 
inventor  of  the  ]iatent  Summers  tubular  boiler  ;  and 
the  manager  bore  the  famous  name  of  Fairburne. 
There  was  an  army  of  mechanics  employed  ;  and  some 
half-dozen  "  gentlemen  apprentices  "  were  always  on 
the  strength  ;  there  being  a  vacancy  among  these,  I 
was  taken  on,  and ,  in  due  course,  entered  into  residence, 
boarding  with  a  young  Cornish  chap  whose  name  I 
forget.  We  had  to  dress  in  fustian  during  working 
ho\irs,  and  each  apprentice  was  placed  under  a 
mechanic  whom  he  had  to  obey.     We  had  to  turn  up 


70  OMNIANA 

at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  with  the  men,  and  were 
shut  out,  and  reported,  if  late  ;  this  was  all  a  terrible 
*'  grind "  in  winter,  though  palHated,  in  my  case 
somewhat,  by  the  old  gate  porter — who  was  an 
Irishman — slipping  me  in,  often,  when  late.  But  the 
work  gradually  quenched  my  enthusiasm,  and  took  the 
gilding  off  the  gingerbread  ;  and,  after  less  than  a 
year's  experience  of  it,  I  intimated  to  my  uncle  that 
I  would  rather  try  some  other  profession  ;  and,  with 
a  magnanimity  which  spoke  well  for  that  good  nature 
which  was  one  of  his  distinguishing  characteristics, 
he  undertook  to  square  matters  with  my  father  ;  and, 
pending  the  next  step  in  my  erratic  career,  I  returned, 
nothing  loath,  to  Vernon  Hill,  to  vegetate,  under  the 
most  agreeable  circumstances,  for  several  months. 

Though  my  stay  at  Southampton  liad  been  short, 
I  gained  some  practical  knowledge  which  I  found 
professionally  useful  later  in  life.  I  got  also  an  early 
insight  into  one  phase  of  the  tender  passion,  which  was 
interesting  and  most  iniormative.  My  chum  had 
been,  before  my  advent,  expending  the  greater  part 
of  his  allowance,  on  the  theatre — which,  of  course, 
I  soon  began  to  frequent  in  his  company.  He 
confided  to  me  the  secret  that  he  was  deeply  in  love 

with   Miss   H ,   the   leading  young   lady.     They 

had  never  met.  He  was  sure  she  fully  reciprocated 
his  feelings  ;  but  there  was  a  difficulty  about  a 
meeting,  as  her  father  was  a  member  of  the  company 
— leading  old  man — and  she  lived  with  him.    I  saw 


A  LOVE   AFFAIR  71 

the  pair  for  the  first  time,  in  Hamlet,  in  which  they 
played  Polonius  and  Opheha.  I  sat  by  my  chum, 
who  always  occupied  the  same  seat,  the  end  one, 
nearest  the  stage  at  the  left-hand  side  of  the  dress 
circle  (where  evening  dress,  fortunately  for  us,  was  not 
insisted  on)  ;  and  was  instructed  to  note  how  the 
fair  one's  gaze  was  always  directed  towards  him. 
There  was  no  doubt  about  this  ;  and  subsequent 
observation  from  the  same  position  nightly,  seemed  to 
fully  warrant  my  friend's  inference.  But  it  occurred 
to  me,  one  evening,  to  suggest  that  we  should  try 
the  opposite  side  of  the  dress  circle. 

*'  If  her  gaze  follows  you,"  I  said,  "  it  will  be 
pretty  strong  evidence  in  your  favour." 

"  Oh,  of  course  it  will."     He  was  confident  about  it. 

But  it  didn't !  Opheha's  look  was  still  to  the 
left,  except  when  she  faced  the  audience — which  was 
seldom,  and  then  with  drooping  lids.  He  went  away 
with  me,  despondent  but  not  hopeless. 

"  Suppose  we  try  the  front  row  of  the  pit,  to- 
morrow night,"  I  suggested. 

We  did  so  ;  still  the  gaze  of  the  beloved  one  was 
to  the  left.  But  I  made  an  important  discovery, 
which  I  had  to  break  to  him  after  the  performance. 

"  It  isn't  love,   my  dear  boy,"   I  said,   "  it's  a 

squint !     Miss  H has  a  cast  in  her  right  eye — 

that's  why  !  " 

Subsequent  closer  observation  by  himself  con- 
firmed the  statement,  and  he  was  cured.     The  lady 


72  OMNIANA 

never  attained  to  fame ;  but  tlie  old  gentleman 
achieved  notoriety  some  years  after  as  a  "  converted 
player  "  at  "  revival  "  meetings —this  I  learned  from 
a  friend  who  was  interested  in  my  spiritual  welfare, 
and  wanted  to  get  me  to  hear  him.  This  old  man's 
case  was  similar  to  that  of  an  actor-contemporary, 
Sheridan  Knowles,  the  famous  author  of  those 
splendid  and  ennobling  dramas  Virginius,  The 
IlnnMaclc,  etc.,  who  died  a  Methodist  preacher 
lamenting  having  written  them. 

One  of  the  large  contracts  which  the  engineering 
firm  had  in  hand  while  I  was  in  Southampton  was  the 
fitting  out  of  a  steam  yacht  for  the  Sultan  of  Tui'key, 
who  sent  over  a  very  intelligent  Turk,  to  pick  up  all 
the  necessary  mechanical  knowledge  to  enable  him 
to  take  full  charge  of  the  vessel  when  completed.  An 
accident  happened  to  one  of  the  shop  mechanics,  and  a 
subscription  was  started  in  his  behalf,  in  which  I  was 
interested.  A  call  was  made  upon  the  foreman  in 
charge  of  the  worlc  on  the  yacht,  who  refused  to  give 
anything,  and  was  characterised  by  the  collector  as 
"  a  damned  stingy  beggar.''  The  Turk  took  in  the 
bearings  of  the  situation  ;  and,  when  approached, 
was  ready  with  his  answer  :  ''  Dis — von- — ^too- — dam— 
steengy — beggar — dam  !  ''  emphasising  each  word  by 
a  prod  at  his  chest  with  his  first  finger.  The  story 
appeared  to  be  worth  repeating,  so  I  took  it  with  me 
to  Vernon  Hill  as  the  principal  asset  of  my  stay  in 
Southampton. 


ARTICLED  TO  AN  ARCHITECT  73 

AFTER  tlie  preliminary  arrangements  had  been 
completed,  I  started  on  a  new  career,  which  it 
was  fondly  but  vainly  hoped  would  '"  steady  " 
me  ;   and,  in  due  time,  I  found  myself  in  London,  an 
articled  pupil  in  the  office  of  Mr.  P — — ,  architect. 

There  was  another  pupil,  B ,  and  we  two  felt  that 

we  represented,  in  our  persons,  a  section  of  the  great 
unpaid,  and  were  fully  justified  in  looking  upon  the 
salaried  assistant,  who  had  authority  over  us,  as  a 
natural  enemy^ — a  sentimental  prig  who  could  not  l^e 
got  to  look  upon  broad-sword  exercises,  with  the 
office  T  squares,  or  rapier  practice  with  the  measuring 
rods,  as  in  any  way  conducive  to  architectural  know- 
ledge ;  we  consequently  gave  him  a  good  deal  of 
trouble,  one  way  and  another.  My  vindictiveness 
culminated  in  poetry,  and  I  composed — as  1  thought — 
an  extremely  clever  lampoon  upon  the  long-suffering 
clerk.  It  was  not  my  intention  to  hurt  his  feehngs 
by  letting  him  see  or  hear  it ;  but  merely  to  give  vent 
to  and  satisfy  my  own.  LTnfortunately,  I  forgot  the 
MS.  one  evening,  and  left  it  in  the  unlocked  drawer  of 
my  drawing  desk.  The  "  chief,"  after  closing  time, 
when  looking  ior  some  plan  or  drawing  which  I  had 
in  hand,  found  the  effusion.  Next  morning,  I  was 
called  into  his  private  office,  and  confronted  by  the 
document — to  which  I  had  to  own  up.  Mr.  P 
was  really  a  kind-hearted  man,  wishing  to  do  right ; 
and  he  administered  a  well-deserved  reproof,   with 


74  OMNIANA 

considerable  emotion.  I  had  no  excuse,  and  saw  no 
loophole  of  escape,  till  he  came  to  the  peroration  on 
idleness,  and  waste  of  opportunity  in  youth  ;  and 
wound  up  with  the  assurance — as  he  dropped  the 
manuscript  into  the  fire,  and  pointed  to  the  door — 
that  "  there  was  no  '  royal  road '  to  success  in  any 
profession,  except  by  labour,  and  hard  work." 

This  gave  me  an  opening  to  retire  with  the  honours 
of  war.  "  I  never  understood,  sir,"  I  retorted,  as  I 
backed  out,  "  that  either  labour  or  hard  work  could  be 
considered  a  '  royal  road.'  " 

This  was,  certainly,  a  piece  of  colossal  cheek  ;  and 

that  Mr.   P overlooked  and  never  resented  it 

speaks  well  for  his  amiability.  Perhaps  he  considered 
that  insubordination  on  the  part  of  a  subordinate, 
was  something  to  be  expected  and  ignored  ;  and  he 
was  not  vindictive. 

Here,  incidentally,  1  may  remark  that  I  did  not 
profit,  professionally,  by  my  articles  of  indenture,  as 
I  might  have  done  ;  but  this,  beyond  doubt,  was  less 

Mr.  P 's  fault  than  mine  ;    because  his  practice 

was  varied  and  extensive,  and  presented  good  oppor- 
tunities for  gaining  a  practical  knowledge  of  the  pro- 
fession. I  remember  one  great  stroke  of  luck  which 
came  his  way,  while  I  was  in  his  office,  and  which  I 
may  as  well  relate  before  he  passes  out  of  my  pages  for 
good  and  all.  A  big  competition  among  architects 
was  advertised,  with  a  premium  of,  as  well  as  I 
remember,  a  hundred  guineas  to  the  winner,  and  the 


I   GO   ON  TOUK  75 

usual  commission  of  five  per  cent,  on  the  cost  of  the 
building  to  be  erected.  The  plans  required  were  for 
a  county  gaol.  The  result  was,  strange  to  say,  that 
Mr.  P — —  w^as  the  only  architect  who  responded  to 
the  invitation  ;  and  he  got  the  job — a  very  important 
one.  The  gaol  was  erected  at  Bodmin  for  the  county 
of  Cornwall,  and  from  these  plans. 


M 


Y  literary  propensity  first  showed  itself — as  I 

have  said — in  the  office  of  Mr.  P ,  by  my 

poetical  tirade  against  his  head  assistant. 
It  developed  rapidly  ;  but,  instead  of  going  into  it 
here,  I  will  relegate  it  to  a  section  devoted  to  itself, 
in  the  shape  of  a  consecutive  narrative,  later  on  ; 
and  proceed  to  present  another  consecutive  narra- 
tive wliich,  though  not  altogether  architectural,  was 
supplemental  to  it — my  theatrical  experience,  which 
was  considerable,  though  quite  fortuitous. 

It  came  about  in  this  way — when  I  had  concluded 
my  articles  of  apprenticeship,  and  was  entitled  to 
call  myself  an  architect,  I  determined,  before  I  settled 
down  to  office  routine,  to  go  on  a  tour  of  inspection  of 
the  great  cathedrals  of  England  for  the  purpose  of 
study,  and  of  making  measm'cd  drawings  and  detail 
sketches  of  any  features  of  interest.  Thus  it  happened 
that,  in  due  course,  I  found  myself  at  C ;  and,  by 


76  OMNIANA 

mere  chance,  I  put  up  at  a  hostel  which  turned  out  to 
be  one  much  patronised  by  members  of  the  theatrical 
profession.  Here  I  met  Charles  Calvert,  then  a  young 
man  full  of  enthusiasm,  one  of  the  staff  of  the  Theatre 
Royal ;  and  who,  many  years  afterwards,  became  a 
standing  favourite  and  manager  in  Manchester,  where 
he  did  so  much  to  elevate  the  drama,  and  the  status 
of  the  actor  ;  and  where  he  achieved  success  not- 
withstanding the  fact  that  his  physique  was  against 
him,  for  he  was,  like  Edmund  and  Charles  Kean,  short 
of  stature  ;  but  like  these  men  he  lose  above  his 
inches,  and  was  great  in  such  characters  as  Richard 
the  Third,  lago,  l^ouis  the  Eleventh,  etc.  A  very 
interesting  account  of  his  career  is  given  in  his  wife's 
reminiscences,  pubhshed  in  1911  ;  from  which  it 
would  appear  that,  despite  his  popularit}-,  he  died 
more  or  less  a  disappointed  man  ;  not  having  met 
with  support  sufficient  to  realise  his  ideals — no 
uncommon  fate.  At  the  time  1  met  him,  he  was  all 
life  and  energy,  and  love  for  his  art.  We  were  both 
young,  and  he  infected  me.  As  a  result  of  my  inter- 
course with  him  and  the  other  actors,  I  soon  got  free 
access  to  the  theatre — ^Ijoth  before  and  behind  the 
curtain  ;    and  in  a  short  time  found  myself  "persona 

grata  with  the  manageress  and  lessee,  Miss  S- ,  a 

buxom  woman,  who  played  leading  characters,  such 
as  Lady  Macbeth  and  Portia,  with  considerable  power, 
and  veiy  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  playgoers  of 
C- .     A  big,  loud-voiced,  good-natured   Irishman 


THEATRICALS  77 

named  P~ — ,  was  leading  tragedian,  playing  such 
parts  as  Macbeth,  Othello,  Hamlet,  Romeo,  etc.,  while 
his  httle,  piquante,  retrousse-nosed  Avife  played  up  to 
him  as  Desdemona,  Ophelia,  Juliet,  etc.  Off  the  stage 
she  would  fly  at  him  in  a  jealous  fit,  which  he  Avould, 
often,  purposely  provoke,  for  mere  devilment.  To 
ward  off  heu  blows  he  would  hold  her  by  the  wrists, 
in  his  iron  grasp,  till  the  paroxym  of  rage  subsided  ; 
then,  he  would  let  her  go,  and  laugh  at  her.  They 
were  devotedly  attached  all  the  same  ;  and  each  loved 
to  hear  the  other  praised  in  private,  and  applauded 
in  public. 

I  found  this  Bohemian  society  very  agreeable ;  and, 
consequently,  was  in  no  hurry  to  complete  my  pro- 
fessional studies  at  the  cathedral.  I  Avas  gradually 
induced  by  Calvert  and  others,  to  try  my  skill  as  an 
actor ;  and,  nothing  loath,  I  did  so ;  and,  soon 
acquired  confidence  enough  to  advance,  from  small 
parts,  to  longer  and  more  ambitious  ones.  I  remember 
performing  the  character  of  a  benevolent  old  gentle- 
man, in  the  play  of  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin ;  but  I  quite 
forget  his  name  ;  and  whether  he  was  in  the  original 
story,  or  was  an  interpolation  by  the  playAvright,  I  am 
unable  to  say,  as  I  never  read  Mrs.  Stowe's  novel. 
I  remember  also,  assuming  the  character  of  Cool  in 
London  Assurance.  These  are  the  only  two  which, 
at  this  distance  of  time,  1  can  recall.  But  my  con- 
nexion with  the  Theatre  Ro3^al,  C ,  was  brought 

unexpectedly  to  an  abrupt  termination.     One  fateful 


78  OMNIANA 

afternoon,  after  a  rehearsal,  and  when  the  members  of 
the  company  had  departed,  I  found  myself  in  the 
wardrobe-room,    arranging   about   a   costume   for   a 

forthcoming  play,  alone  with  iVIiss  S ,  who  suddenly 

called  on  me  to  enact  the  part  of  Joseph,  while  she 
herself  assumed  the  role  of  Potiphar's  wife.  The 
result  was  the  same  as  that  recorded  in  the  Scriptures. 
I  fled  precipitately — leaving  the  lady  to  lock  up  the 
theatre,  it  was  plain  that,  under  the  circumstances, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  make  myself  scarce, 
and  the  sooner  the  better  ;  for,  not  only  was  I,  at  the 
time,  over  head  and  cars  in  love,  but  actually  engaged 
to  a  httle  lady  in  her  teens  who  subsequently  proved 
the  most  devoted  wife  and  mother,  and  who,  if  she 
knew  that  I  was  now  introducing  her  into  this  narra- 
tive, would  go  for  me,  and  delete  the  whole  passage. 
"  For  yet,"  as  Eichard  Jeff  cries  charmingly  expresses 
it,  ''  the  honeymoon  bouquet  remains  in  the  wine  of 
hfe," — to  which  exposiue  to  the  atmosphere  of  pub- 
hcity  is  more  or  less  inimical. 

I  felt  it  to  be  extremely  hkely — nay  certain — that 

Miss  S 's  resentment  would   assume  a  bitterly 

vindictive  aspect.  It  is  not  in  female  human  nature 
to  overlook  such  a  repulse. 

Cum  siimulos  odio  fifdor  admovet. 

I  could  not  bring  myself  to  confide  the  reason  for 
my    abrupt    departure,    to    anybody — not    even    to 

Calvert ;    but  as  P and  his  wife  were  going  to 

S ,  on  a  starring  tour,  1  elected  to  go  with  them,  in 


THEATRICALS  79 

order  to  pursue  my  professional  studies  there — it 
being  another  well-known  cathedral  town.  I  never 
saw  my  friend  Calvert  again.     Shortly  after  arrival 

at  S ,  Romeo  and  Juliet  was  billed  ;    and,  under 

pressure  I  undertook  the  unpopular  and  always  im- 
patiently tolerated  part  of  Paris.  In  the  fierce  en- 
counter with  Romeo,  my  rapier,  yielding  to  a  vigorous 
stroke  from  my  strenuous  adversary,  suddenly  broke 
off,  leaving  the  liilt  in  my  grasp,  while  the  blade  flew 
across  the  stage,  laying  me  open  to  the  fatal  assault. 
Romeo  ran  me  through  in  the  most  approved  fashion  ; 
and  the  audience  attributing  an  accident  to  a  bit 
of  well-managed  stage  effect,  applauded  vigorously, 
making  the  death  scene  which  usually  falls  rather 
flat — a  pronounced  success. 

Another  incident  connected  with  my  experiences 

at  the  Theatre  Royal,  S' ,  I  may  record.     In  a 

sensational  drama,  the  title  of  which  I  forget,  1  had 
to  cross  a  foaming  torrent,  over  a  very  rickety  rustic 
bridge,  to  rescue  from  marauders  of  some  sort,  a 
fatherless  infant,  and  restore  it  to  the  arms  of  a 
charming  but  frantic  mother.  She  received  it  rap- 
turously, exclaiming  :  '*  Oh  !  my  babe  !  my  babe  !  " 
and  I  could  not  help,  at  the  moment,  thinking,  amid 
rounds  of  applause,  on  what  a  trivial  issue  success 
depended — a  single  letter,  in  fact.  If  her  apostrophe 
had  been  to  her  "  baby  "  instead  of  "  babe,"  the 
result  would  have  been  bathos  instead  of  pathos — 
also  the  difference  of  only  a  letter  ! 


80  OiMNlANA 

Under  the  cloak  of  fiction  1  have,  in  my  first  novel, 
Cidmshire  Folk,  gone  more  into  detail  with  regard  to 
my  theatrical  experiences  ;  but,  I  dare  say,  the  reader 
will  be  satisfied  with  what  I  have  given  him  in  these 
pages,  and  will  not  trouble  himself  to  look  up  that  rare 
and  noAv  forgotten  volume,  which  first  appeared  as 
far  back  as  1873. 


THE  drajua  did  not  seriously  interfere  with 
my  professional  studies  "  on  torn',''  which 
1  pursued  with  assiduity  till  my  funds  ran 
short,  and  1  had  to  return  to  London,  to  seek 
employment  as  assistant  in  some  architect's  office. 
It  was  hard  to  obtain  a  permanent  "  sit,"  with 
anything  like  a  decent  salary.  The  profession 
was  overstocked  then,  as  now ;  and  the  Builder 
and  Building  News,  every  week,  teemed  with 
advertisements  from  men  on  a  like  quest  as  myself, 
who  undertook  to  do  everything  at  from  thirty 
shilhngs  to  two  pounds  a  week  ;  and,  not  infrequently, 
at  even  twenty  shillings.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that 
I  Icnocked  about  a  good  deal,  for  a  time,  before 
setthng  down ;  and  had  a  varied  experience  of 
architects.  Among  those  whom  I  may  mention  with 
special  regard,  as  gentlemen  in  every  sense  of  the 
^^•ord,  ^Ncrc  Horace  Jones,  architect  to  the  City  of 


OFFICE   WORK  81 

London  ;  Professor  Thomas  Roger  Smith  (in  whose 
office,  by-the-bye,  worked  also  Thomas  Hardy)  ; 
Burgess — a  crank,  but  a  genius,  and  a  really  good 
fellow  ;  and  last,  but  not  least,  Alfred  Waterhouse, 
for  whom  I  came  to  entertain  a  strong  personal 
regard.  He  was  a  man  somewhat  younger  than 
myself,  and  had  recently  set  up  in  Manchester.  Our 
acquaintance  began  through  an  advertisement  of 
mine,  which  was  worded  somewhat  thus :  "To 
architects.  Advertiser  seeks  an  appointment  as  an 
assistant."  This  was  rephed  to  by  him,  and  I  went 
to  the  North  forthwith.  On  asking  him  why  he 
selected  me  out  of  such  a  number,  he  replied  that  my 
advertisement  was  the  only  modest  and  the  least 
pretentious  one  of  the  lot — and  that  was  his  reason. 
I  said  I  thouglit  it  well  to  let  him  know,  at  the  outset, 
that  his  conclusion  was  wide  of  the  mark,  and  that  I  had 
an  extremely  good  opinion  of  myself.  He  laughed, 
and  said,  "  Well,  we'll  soon  see  if  you  are  justified." 

Work  began  at  high  pressure  in  his  office  ;  and  we 
were  engaged,  for  a  considerable  time,  on  a  big  com- 
petition which  meant  fame  and  success  and  profit 
to  the  winner.  The  buildinjj;  was  to  be  a  new  Assize 
Courts  for  the  City  of  Manchester.  The  fight  between 
the  men  of  the  old  "  Classic  "  school  of  architects, 
and  the  "  Gothic  "  young  bloods,  between  the  Insti- 
tute and  the  Architectural  Association,  was  then  at  its 
height.     It  was  roundly  asserted  by  the  former,  that 

Gothic  could  not  be  satisfactorily  adapted  to,  or  be 

G 


82  OMNIANA 

dignified  enough,  for  the  requirements  of  such  a 
structure.  Excitement  ran  high.  iVt  last  the  com- 
petition was  decided  in  favour  of  Waterhouse's  design  ; 
and  his  triumph  was  complete  when  Ruskin  stamped 
the  building  with  his  approval.  The  work  involved 
a  protracted  stay  with  Waterhouse,  in  the  preparation 
of  the  working  drawings  ;  and  our  relations  were 
alw^ays  the  most  cordial.  I  have  still  in  my  possession 
a  presentation  copy,  from  him,  of  Mrs.  Browning's 
poems  in  three  volumes,  which  he  gave  me  at  parting. 
We  corresponded  from  time  to  time  in  after  years, 
till  he  killed  himself  (as  I  beheve)  by  over- work  ;  and 
it  was  he  who  proposed  me,  seconded  by  Thomas 
Roger  Smith,  for  a  Fellowship  of  the  Institute  in 
1872,  without  my  going  through  the  preliminary  stage 
of  Associate. 

While  I  was  w^ith  him  my  mihtary  ardour,  which 
had  lain  dormant  since  my  schooldays,  broke  out 
afresh  ;  and,  as  this  fact  opens  up  an  interesting 
phase  of  my  career,  I  may  be  pardoned  if  I  go  a  little 
into  detail  in  order  to  explain  the  genesis  of  this 
reawakened  enthusiasm. 

My  predilections  were  always  for  a  mihtary  hfe  : 
and,  if  I  could  have  gratified  them,  I  should  certainly 
have  been  a  soldier.  But  commissions,  in  my  early 
days,  were  only  to  be  obtained  by  purchase  at  a  very 
big  cash  figure,  and  backed  by  influence  in  high  places. 
Even  if  both  had  been  available,  I  was  an  only  son ;  and 
my  mother  would  have  exercised  her  veto  to  a  certainty. 


CAPTAIN  BLAND  83 

WHILE  I  was  at  school,  in  Dublin,  my  cousin's 
regiment,  the  57th,  was  at  one  time  quar- 
tered in  Beggars'  Bush  Barracks.  There  was 
a  review,  in  the  Phoenix  Park,  on  the  Queen's  birthday. 
We  boys,  under  the  care  of  one  of  the  masters,  went 
to  it.  Returning  with  his  company,  Jim  recognised 
me  just  outside  the  Park  gates.  With  the  permission 
of  the  master,  I  was  at  his  side  in  a  moment — the 
proudest  lad  in  Dublin.  It  was  a  stiff  march  of  over 
two  miles,  but  I  got  through  the  ordeal  creditably, 
though  the  day  was  blazing  hot ;  and  when  the  men 
were  dismissed  in  the  barrack  square,  I  spent  a  happy 
and  highly  elated  hour,  with  Jim,  in  his  quarters  ; 
getting  back  to  school  many  inches  taller,  in  my  own 
estimation,  than  the  circumstances  warranted. 

The  regiment  went  afterwards  to  Ceylon,  and 
subsequently  his  Company  volunteered  for  the  Crimea. 
I  never  saw  him  again  :  he  fell  in  the  terrible  battle 
of  Inkerman.  In  a  book  published  in  1855,  entitled 
The  Heroes  of  the  Crimea,  there  was  a  notice  of  him, 
from  which  I  make  a  few  extracts.  "  There  were  but 
170  of  the  57th  in  this  huge  encounter  of  Russian 
masses  against  this  British  unit.  ...  He  (Bland) 
commanded  the  company.  .  .  .  Only  sixty  survived 
to  tell  his  deeds.  Good  !  Say  what  he  did,  and  you 
tell  your  own  fame.  '  Like  an  avenging  angel,'  says 
a  brother  officer,  '  he  dealt  death  to  every  Russian 
within  sweep  of  his  weapon.     How  he  escaped  so 


84  OMNIANA 

long  I  know  not.  They  appeared  to  me  to  liave 
marked  him  for  their  vengeance.  He  sent  some  ten 
fellows  to  their  acconnt,  within  thirty  yards  ol'  where 
I  was  keeping  my  men  on  the  defensive.  He  had 
only  170  on  the  field  ;  but  they  did  the  work  of  ten 
times  their  number.  .  .  .  Poor  Bland,  he  had  three 
terrible  wounds  in  the  head,  either  of  which  was  more 
than  sufficient  to  kill  him.  He  died  after  a  splendid 
display  of  gallantry.'  Ireland  may  well  be  proud  of 
him  as  well  as  of  her  other  heroes." 

Poor  chap— he  was  only  twenty-seven  when  he 
fell — emphasising  by  his  valour  the  proud  sobriquet 
of  his  regiment,  the  "  Die-hards." 

I  was,  as  I  said,  in  Manchester,  in  the  office  of 
Alfred  Waterhouse,  when  the  Volunteer  movement 
suddenly  sprang  up,  and  spread  with  amazing  rapidity. 
In  an  article  written  by  a  foreign  mihtary  expert  the 
invasion  of  England  was  seriously  suggested,  and  the 
means  of  successfully  effecting  a  landing  discussed. 
It  is  impossible  at  this  distance  of  time,  to  reahse 
the  intense  state  of  excitement  caused  by  the  threat 
of  this  great  invasion.  The  country  was  thoroughly 
roused,  and  alarmed  ;  and  in  an  incredibly  short 
space  of  time,  a  Citizen  Army  became  an  accomplished 
fact ;  the  utmost  enthusiasm  prevailed,  and,  not- 
withstanding that  the  Government,  for  a  long  time, 
gave  no  assistance,  and  the  men  had  to  find  them- 
selves in  uniforms  and  arms,  the  movement  did  not 
flag  ;   those  who  coidd  not  afford  to  pay  were  helped 


VOLUNTEER  MOVEMENT  85 

by  those  who  could ;  subscriptions  poured  in ; 
regimental  depots  were  estabhshed  ;  every  town  had 
its  corps  ;  and  every  village  furnished  its  quota. 
The  officers  were  chosen  by  the  men  themselves  ;  and 
persons  of  influence,  and  of  means,  were  selected  ;  a 
warhke  spirit  was  abroad  ;  and  drilling  in  the  evenings 
followed  the  day's  regular  work  ;  the  Saturday  half- 
holiday  was  estabhshed  ;  professional  men,  business 
men,  tradesmen,  clerks,  mechanics,  working  men — 
all  met  and  fraternised.  Saturday  afternoons  were 
generally  devoted  to  field  exercises  ;  and  training 
in  the  open,  under  quahfied  adjutants  and  non- 
commissioned officers  of  the  regular  army,  was  the 
order  of  the  day.  Manchester  was  well  to  the  front, 
from  the  first,  notwithstanding  the  violent  and  in- 
temperate abuse  of  the  movement  by  a  young  Baptist 
minister,  named  Arthur  Mursell,  who,  Sunday  after 
Sunday,  dehvered  himself  of  a  denunciatory  discourse 
in  the  Free  Trade  Hall,  which  was  printed  and  circu- 
lated on  Monday,  and  sold  at  a  penny.  Pamphlets 
in  reply  appeared  before  the  following  Saturday,  and 
the  sale  of  both  pamphlets  was  enormous  from  week 
to  week.  Meanwhile  the  first  Manchester  regiment 
was  quickly  formed. 

At  this  juncture  I  issued  an  advertisement,  in  the 
local  papers,  calhng  on  my  countrymen  in  the  city, 
to  form  an  Irish  contingent ;  giving  my  name  and 
address,  as  "  self-constituted  secretary  fw  temS' 
The  response  was  prompt.     Names  came  in  with  a 


80  OMNIANA 

rush  ;  and,  litaving  secured  the  co-operation  of  a 
compatriot  of  good  position — the  senior  partner  in 
the  well-known  firm  of  Porteous  and  Paul,  things 
began  to  hum  ;  and  the  Irish  contingent  ultimately 
developed  into  the  second  Manchester  regiment.  Of 
course  I  was  mixed  up  with  the  Avar  of  words,  and 
wrote  two  of  the  rejoinders  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Mursell. 
A  few  years  ago,  I  endeavoured,  by  advertising  locally, 
to  obtain  copies  of  my  penny  productions,  but  only 
succeeded  in  getting  one,  entitled  Mursell  from  an 
Irish  Point  of  View,  for  which  I  had  to  pay  the 
advanced  price  of  two  and  sixpence ;  the  other, 
Who'll  tread  on  the  Tail  of  my  Coat  ?  I  failed  to  obtain. 
I  remember  that  an  Alderman  Heywood,  who  was  a 
bookseller  and  printer,  and  pubhshed  many  of  the 
rejoinder  penny  pamphlets  for  the  Volunteers,  was  so 
pleased  with  the  sale  of  mine  that  he  gave  me  an 
order  for  three  pounds'  w^orth  of  books  from  his 
stock.  "^^ 

*  While  writing  the  above,  it  struck  me  that  possibly  Mr.  Mursell 
might  be  still  alive.  On  inquiry  I  found  he  was,  and  I  got  into  cor- 
respondence with  him  in  April,  1914,  when  he  was  eightj-two.  His 
first  letter  in  reply  to  mine  ran  as  follows  : — 

Deab  Mr.  Fuller, 

Your  olive  branch  is  most  magnanimous.  People  who  say 
uncivil  things  to  or  about  one  another  seldom  bear  any  malice.  I 
remember  the  little  freshet  on  the  current  of  my  life  which  my  crude 
and  impetuous  allusions  evoked.  To  show  you  how  time  has  con- 
verted me.  I  was  lunchmg  with  Sir  E.  Carson  and  other  leaders  a 
month  ago,  and  told  him  that  if  he  wanted  an  ardent  yoiDig  recruit 
to  light  or  fall  for  Ulster,  he  aiight  enlist  me  without  the  King's  shilling. 
tSo  you  sec  I  have  joined  the  Volimteer  movement  that  1  once  derided. 


I  JOIN  THE  "LONDON  IRISH"         87 

As  in  the  Lacedemonian  army  all  were  captains, 
so  in  the  A^'olimteers  there  were  no  social  or  class 
distinctions ;  or,  rather,  they  existed  but  didn't 
count.  Of  course,  having  been  the  organiser  of  the 
Irish  contingent,  there  was  a  strongly  expressed  wisli 
that  1  should  accept  a  commission  ;  but  I  resolutely 
declined,  for  two  reasons — that  it  would  involve 
extra  expense,  and  that  I  was  only  a  bird  of  passage 
and  might  leave  at  any  moment. 

I  do  not,  at  this  distance  of  time,  remember  how 
long  I  remained  in  Manchester,  but  my  next  move 
was  to  Sheffield,  and  into  the  office  of  Mr.  Hadfield, 
who  had  just  dissolved  partnership  with  Mr.  Goldie  ; 
and  here  I  found  the  Hallamshire  Volunteer  corps 
in  full  swing.  Of  course  I  joined  it,  which  meant 
an  entirely  new  rig-out,  as  the  uniform  was  quite 
different. 

After  a  pretty  long  term  with  Mr.  Hadfield,  I 
went  back  again  to  London,  and  immediately  joined 
the  London  Irish  regiment,  and  had  to  invest  in  a 
third  uniform.  Being,  by  this  time,  very  well  up  in 
drill,  I  was  "  read  out  "  for  a  sergeant's  stripes,  which 

I  did  not  keep  the  pamplets  more  than  a  few  yeara,  and  they  have 
passed,  as  Tyndal  said,  years  ago  at  Belfast,  "  into  the  infinite  azure  of 
the  past."     I  thank  you  for  your  kind  letter  and  am, 

Yours  very  truly, 

Arthur  Mursell. 

I'm  sorry  to  say  he  died  a  few  months  after,  leavmg  behind  him 
an  interesting  book,  Memoriefi  of  iiti/  Life,  published  by  Hodder  & 
btoughton. 


88  OMNIANA 

meant  that  1  had  to  take  my  part  in  instructing 
lecruits.  Our  Colonel  was  that  grand  old  man,  the 
Marquess  ol"  Donegal.  We  were  a  vcr}'  popular 
corps  in  London  ;  and,  our  turn  out,  and  fiiie  band 
playing  stirring  Irish  tunes,  always  drew  a  big  crowd. 
I  speak  of  all  this  now,  in  the  past  tense,  as  I  have 
been  lor  many  years  practically  a  stranger  to  the  big 
city.  1  remember  that  the  great  event  connected 
with  the  organisation,  was  the  review  by  Queen 
Victoria,  in  Hyde  Park,  in  June,  1860,  Avhen  Volunteer 
regiments  from  all  parts  of  England  and  Scotland 
were  present.  Wc  had  a  strenuous  day's  work  ;  but 
the  occasion  was  a  memorable  one,  of  which  the  nation 
had  reason  to  be,  and  was,  proud.  It  was  a  practical 
answer  to  the  threat  of  invasion,  at  all  events. 

The  review  was  on  a  Saturday  ;  and,  according  to 
the  Times  of  the  following  Monday,  the  units  which 
were  singled  out.  and  received  with  the  greatest 
enthusiasm,  by  the  enormous  concourse  of  people, 
were  Lord  Elcho's  Highlanders,  the  London  Irish 
(my  corps),  the  Inns  of  Court  (the  "  Devil's  Own  "), 
and  the  Robin  Hoods.  The  Irish  were  in  the  second 
brigad<\  The  day  passed  oft"  without  any  serious 
accident.  The  Duke  of  Newcastle  and  Lord  Otho 
Fitzgerald  were  unhorsed,  but  escaped  unhurt. 

And  now,  while  on  the  subject  of  militancy,  I  may 
as  well  continue  my  experiences,  quite  irrespective 
of  chronological  order — Avhich  I  have  not  hitherto 
observed,  for  llic  very  good  reason  that  I  never  kept 


GARIBALDI  89 

any  notes  or  any  record  of  dates,  the  idea  never 
entering  my  head,  that  I  should  ever  sit  down  to 
chronicle  my  experiences. 

It  was  early  borne  in  upon  me  that  I  did  not  like 
office  routine,  and  the  want  of  personal  freedom  which 
it  involved  ;  nor  did  I  like  temporary  employment, 
at  a  salary  which  could  not  be  called  a  living  wage. 
It  happened  that  I  was  working  in  a  city  office  for  a 

little  man  named  D ,  whom  I  and  his  other  two 

assistants  detested,*  at  the  time  when  the  Garibaldi 
excitement  was  at  its  height,  and  his  exploits  were 
finding  ample  pictorial  recognition  in  the  pages  of 
the  Illustrated  London  News  (which  then  held  the 
field  as  a  sixpenny  paper,  and  had  not  to  contend  with 
a  host  of  weekly  rivals  at  the  same  price — to  say 
nothing  of  halfpenny  daily  ones).  At  this  juncture, 
an  advertisement  appeared  calling  for  young  men 
willing  to  enroll  themselves  in  the  formation  of  a 
British  legion  for  active  service  under  Garibaldi. 
The  preliminaries  were  being  arranged  by  an  officer 
of  the  regular  army  who  was  ultimately  to  take  over 
command.  The  response  was  all  that  could  be 
desired :  everything  went  on  swimmingly.  Each 
man  was  to  bear  his  own  expenses  of  equipment ;  but 
the  uniform  was  inexpensive,  mainly  consisting  of  a 
red  flannel  shirt  and  cap  to  match.  Of  course,  I  was 
one  of  the  first  on  the  roster  ;  and  we  were  all  in  high 

*  He    died    last    year — 1915 — aged    eight y-LMght.       Peace    iv    his 
ashes. 


90  OMNIANA 

spirits.  The  officer  who  was  at  the  head  of  the 
movement  was,  as  well  as  I  remember,  a  Captain 
Gildea.  Probably  a  member  of  that  fine  old  family 
of  soldiers,  Gildea  of  Clooncormack,  Co.  Mayo.  There 
was  a  certain  amount  of  inystery  about  our  proceed- 
ings, which  added  zest  to  the  other  attractions  ;  but, 
alas !  the  bright  prospect  was  suddenly  overcast,  and 
our  hopes  bhghted  l)y  a  proclamation  issued  by  the 
Government — I  forget  who  was  Prime  Minister — 
forbidding  the  formation  of  the  corps,  and  an  intima- 
tion from  the  War  Office  that  our  gallant  Captain 
would  be  cashiered,  or  court-martialled ,  or  both,  if  he 
persisted  in  his  intention  ;  and  thus  our  chances  of 
active  service  were  shattered. 

However,  this  damper  did  not  quench  my  ardour  ; 
it  smouldered  for  a  time,  and  then  broke  out  again, 
with  extraordinary  results,  which  were  destined  to 
form  an  epoch  in  my  variegated  career.  A  "  brother 
chip  "  had  gone  into  the  Koyal  Engineers,  and  fallen 
on  his  feet,  for  he  was  appointed  to  the  Ordnance 
Survey,  and  was  having  a  high  old  time  of  it.  If  he, 
why  not  I  ?  I  resolved,  one  day,  to  follow  his  example 
and — made  a  disastrous  mistake,  as  I  discovered 
when  too  late.  I  enlisted,  and  was  immediately 
ordered  to  headquarters  at  Chatham,  where  I 
blossomed  into  a  full-blown  "  sapper,"  to  some  pur- 
pose ;  for  my  experience  of  a  few  months  in  the  ranks 
was  destined  to  bear  fruit  in  a  way  that  the  authorities 
little  expected,  and  which  they  found,  to  say  the 


MY  FIEST  BOOK  91 

least  of  it,  extremely  unpleasant.  I  was  "  out "  for 
vengeance  !  I  had  been  tricked  into  the  belief,  when 
I  joined,  that  I  should  be  appointed  on  the  Ordnance 
Survey  Staff,  whereas  I  found  myself  a  mere  ordinary 
recruit.  To  regain  my  freedom  I  had  to  lodge 
twenty-five  pounds. 

I  dipped  my  pen  in  gall,  and  "  went "  for  the 
authorities  ;  thereby  scoring  my  first  Hterary  success. 
My  article  entitled  Army  Misrule,  hij  a  common 
soldier,  appeared  in  a  then  new  magazine,  entitled  the 
Constitutional  Press — a  high  Tory  organ  estabhshed 
to  smash  the  Whigs,  and  pubhshed  by  Saunders, 
Otley  and  Co.  It  was  short  Hved,  but  it  lived  long 
enough  to  suit  my  purpose  ;  and  it  paid  me  liberally, 
which  was  a  secondary,  but  not  unimportant,  con- 
sideration. I  followed  the  article  up,  and  then  pub- 
lished the  whole  in  book  form.  The  disclosures 
caused  a  big  sensation,  as  they  were  startling,  and 
quite  new  to  the  civilian.  The  mihtary  authorities 
tried  to  discredit  me  by  means  of  letters  in  the  Service 
papers,  which  insinuated  that  the  author  was  not  a 
soldier  ;  but  Sir  W.  H.  Russell,  the  famous  war 
correspondent  of  the  Times,  came  to  the  rescue, 
and  insisted  that  there  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  truth 
of  the  statements,  and  the  bona  fides  of  the  author. 
I  had  said  that  I  ''  belonged  to  the  first  corps  in  the 
Service  "  ;  and  this  was  interpreted  to  mean  the 
Guards,  whereas  I  meant  the  Royal  Engineers  :  this 
obscured  the    scent    somewhat   at    the    start,    and 


92  OMNJANA 

frustrated  efforts  to  liiid  lue.  Doubtless,  if  my  identity 
liiid  been  establislied,  things  would  have  been  made 
hot  for  me,  and  I  might  not  have  got  my  discharge. 
Once  free  there  was  nothing  to  fear  ;  and  I  followed 
the  book  up  afterwards  by  articles  in  the  Fortnightl/j 
Review.  Signed  papers  were  the  rule  in  that  peri- 
odical ;  but,  in  my  case,  the  rule  was  dispensed  with, 
for  obvious  reasons,  as  explained  in  an  editorial  note. 
A  second  edition  was  brought  out  by  Chapman  and 
Hall  (the  publishers  of  the  Forinlghtly)  in  1867.  It 
would  not  do  to  inflict  long  extracts  from  an  obsolete 
book  upon  a  modern  reader  ;  *  but  I  cannot  refrain 
from  one  quotation  which  was  meant  to  be  humorous, 
and  was  fastened  on,  by  a  critic  of  a  matter-of-fact 
temperament,  to  discredit  my  statements  generally — 

"  A  certain  man  enlisted  into  the  British 
"  Army,  and  began  to  complain  on  one  and  the 
"  same  day  ;  he  remained  in  it  for  many  years, 
"  because  he  couldn't  get  out  of  it,  and  never 
"  ceased  making  complaints  the  while.  At  last 
"  the  complainant  fell  ill  of  a  complaint ;  and  on 
"  liis  death-bed,  he  wrote  to  the  Horse  Guards 
'"  stating  that  his  complaint  had  been  wTongly 
"  treated  by  the  Sergeant-Poultice-Major  of  his 
"  regiment.  This  document  the  Horse  Guards 
"  sent  back  to  the  complainant,  requiring  him 


*  All  tlic   abuses   which    I  tlicn  censured  have,  long   yinoe,    been 
swept  awa}'. 


AN  IMAGINARY  CASE  93 

'  to  sign  and  fill  up  another  document  (therewith 
■  sent)  to  the  effect  that  he  was  the  sendei-  of  the 
first.  This  was  done  by  the  complainant,  who 
complained  of  having  to  do  it.  In  due  course 
the  Horse  Guards  sent  another  document  to 
say  that  his  complaint  '  was  lodged  in  the 
proper  quarter '  (meaning  the  official  one). 
While  it  was  lodged  there,  and  while  some  one 
was  seeing  about  it,  and  round  it,  and  to  it, 
the  complainant  died,  and  was  buried.  In 
twelve  months  or  so,  another  document  was 
sent  after  him  to  give  notice  that  he  was  to 
hold  himself  in  readiness  to  appear  before  a 
regimental  medical  committee,  which  was  to 
sit  upon  the  Sergeant-Poultice-Major,  and  the 
Lance-Bandage-Corporal  immediately.  This 
document  went  to  a  man  of  the  same  name  in 
Corfu  ;  who  returned  to  England  in  another 
twelve  months,  and  was  tried,  and  punished 
for  doing  so  under  false  pretences.  The  special 
committee  (which  is  paid  for  its  trouble  of 
course)  is  still  sitting,  only  waiting  for  the  right 
man,  in  order  to  settle  the  matter  ;  and  to 
reprimand  the  guilty  officials,  who,  meanwhile, 
hold  their  own — pending  judgment." 


Obviously,  I  intended  this  as  a  hit  at  routine  and 
red  tape.  That  I  did  not  exaggerate  overmuch,  is 
proved  by  the  following  extract  from  the  mihtary 


94  OMNIANA 

intelligence  of  a  London  daily  paper,  which  unfortu- 
nately did  not  appear  till  some  years  after  the  book. 


'*'  Last  week  we  heard  of  a  Marine  who  was 
'  reported  as  killed  at  Tel-el-Kebir,  turning  up 
'  at  Chatham  and  having  some  difficulty  in 
persuading  the  authorities  that  he  was  not 
dead.  A  far  stranger  story  comes  from  Man- 
chester. When  the  South  Lancashire  Regiment 
was  lying  in  Limerick  a  man  deserted,  and  one 
died  on  the  same  day.  By  some  strange 
jumble  the  name  of  the  dead  man  had 
'  deserted  '  marked  against  it,  while  the  real 
deceased  was  buried  in  the  name  of  the  deserter. 
Within  the  past  few  days  the  recorded  dead 
man  has  surrendered  at  Manchester,  and  is 
anxious  to  be  sent  back  to  his  corps  to  be  dealt 
with  according  to  law  for  having  improperly 
left  his  regiment.  No  doubt  this  man  can  be 
easily  identified  and  tried  ;  but  what  about 
the  poor  fellow  who  has  been  interred  in  the 
wrong  name  ?  " 


And  recently,  since  I  began  to  write  (1915),  I  have 
come  across  the  following,  which  is  up  to  date  at  all 
events  : — 

"  Corporal   Wilson,   of   the   Highland   Light 
'*  Infantry,    and    Private   Hadley,    of    the    2nd 


DEAD  OR  ALIVE?  95 

'  Worcestershire   Regiment,   were   investigating 

'  the  German  hnes  near  Ypres  when  they  saw  a 

'  German  Maxim  gun,  and  decided  to  captm:e  it. 

'  They  killed  half  a  dozen  Germans,  and,  in  the 

'  face  of  heavy  fire,  took  the  gun.     Wilson  was 

'  awarded  the  V.C,  but  Hadley,  by  an  error, 

'  was  reported  as  killed.     On  the  day  after  his 

'  exploit  he  was,  in  fact,  wounded.     He  was  sent 

'  to  hospital,  and  afterwards  was  invalided  home 

'  to    Halesowen.     But,    having    been    reported 

'  dead,  he  had  ceased,  officially,  to  exist.     His  pay 

'  was   stopped,    and   in   reply   to   his   repeated 

'  applications  for  it,  he  was  told  that  Private 

'  Hadley  had  been  killed  in  action.     Then  the 

'  unfortunate    fellow    took    laborious    steps    to 

establish  his  existence  and  his  identity.     The 

local  headquarters,  his  former  employer,  and 

other  acquaintances,  confirmed  the  fact  of  his 

being  alive,  and  the  War  Office  at  last  yielded 

to  these  juultiplied  proofs.     It  has  instructed 

him  to  rejoin  his  regiment —and,  presumably, 

has  given  him  his  arrears  of  pay." 


It  is  to  be  hoped  that  he  will  also  get  his  V.C. 

The  Constitutional  Press,  in  which  Army  Misrule 
first  appeared,  was  edited  by  a  young  man  named 
Arthur  Robins,  a  pronounced  Tory  and  High  Church- 
man, with  all  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,  the  courage 
of  his  convictions,  and   a  remarkably  fine  physique. 


or,  OMNIANA 

1I<'  liatl  written  a  novel  entitled  Miriam  May  (his 
fii'st  ])ook  ;  which  met  with  antagonism  from  Mndie, 
and  in  consequence,  went  into  several  editions)  ;  lie 
wrote  also  Crisfin  Ken,  and  subsequently,  in  1864, 
Black  Moss.  In  these  books,  he  aired  his  anti- 
evangelical  opinions,  and  also  gave  vigorous  expression 
to  them  in  the  magazine.  I  wrote  several  articles 
for  it,  besides  the  army  ones,  for  which  I  was  liberally 
paid.  It  was  his  intention  to  go  into  the  Church  ; 
and  shortly  after  I  made  his  acquaintance,  he  gave 
up  the  editorship,  and  went  to  Oxford. 

He  was  the  son  of  that  most  renowned  of 
auctioneers,  George  Robins,  whose  powers  of  per- 
suasion were  such  that  he  could  induce  the  most 
reluctant  of  misers  to  open  his  purse,  and  purchase 
what  he  didn't  want.  We  drifted  apart,  and  I  lost 
sight  of  him  for  half  a  century,  till,  one  day,  I 
came  across  a  newspaper  paragraph  which  stated 
that  "  the  Rev.  Arthur  Robins,  rector  of  Holy 
Trinity,  Windsor,  was  seriously  ill."  My  interest 
revived  on  the  instant,  and  I  sat  down  and 
wrote  to  him,  recalhng  old  times  and  hoping  for  his 
speedy  recovery.  The  letter  must  have  reached  him 
on  the  day  he  died — which  was  a  sad  shock  and 
disappointment  to  me.  An  obituary  notice  stated 
that  he  was  familiarly  known  as  "  the  soldier's 
Bishop,"'  by  whom  he  was  greatly  beloved.  It  went 
on  to  say  that  he  had  made  many  bitter  enemies 
among  the  civic  authorities  of  the  Royal  borough, 


REV.   ARTHUR   ROBINS  97 

through  denouncing  the  skims,  and  shim  owners, 
who  managed  to  render  him  unpopular,  by  stating 
that  he  wanted  to  evict  the  poor,  in  order  to  put  up 
expensive  houses  at  high  rents.  The  crusade  against 
him  produced  serious  riots  ;  and  he  was  even  burned 
in  effigy.  But  he  Hved  down  all  ill-feeling.  The 
Queen  valued  him  highly,  and  appointed  him  her 
chaplain — a  post  which  he  held  for  twenty-three 
years  till  his  death.  His  influence  with  soldiers  was 
as  great  as  his  popularity  among  them ;  and  I 
wondered,  as  I  read  about  him,  whether  his  interest 
in  the  army  was  not  first  awakened  by  my  articles 
in  his  magazine. 

I  remember  his  telling  that,  when  his  father  lived 
at  Park  Crescent,  at  the  top  of  Portland  Place,  he  used 
to  play  as  a  boy,  in  the  Gardens  attached,  with  Baron 
Alderson's  little  son  and  daughter  (she  afterwards 
became  Lady  Salisbury).  One  day  he  held  the  reins 
while  they  were  the  horses  ;  and  using  the  whip  rather 
too  freely  on  young  Alderson,  the  boy  turned  on  him, 
and  said,  ''  You  mustn't  do  that !  I'll  tell  father, 
and  you  know  he  is  a  judge,  and  can  send  you  to 
gaol." 

Another  good  story  was  this.  Saunders,  Otley 
&  Co.,  had  not  too  fair  a  name  for  liberality  (what 
publishers  ever  had  ?).  One  day  an  irate  author,  who 
considered  that  he  had  been  badly  treated,  called  at 
Conduit  Street,  and  insisted  on  seeing  one  of  the 
principals.     Hew    as    shown    in    to    Robins.     After 


98  OMNIANA 

dilating  on  his  grievances,  and  obtaining  no  redress, 
the  angry  man  turned  on  his  heel,  saying,  as  he 
departed — 

"  Sir,  if  you  are  Saunders,  then  damn  Otley  ;  if 
you  are  Otley,  then  damn  Saunders ;  but  if  you  are 
the  Company,  then  you  are  welcome  to  the  double 
reversion  !  " 

I  reproduce  a  portrait  of  Robins  taken  from  a 
photo  by  W.  and  A.  H.  Fry,  of  Brighton,  which  will, 
I  hope,  have  some  interest  for  my  readers,  and  has 
much  for  my  sell,  I  learned,  recently,  that  a  very 
good  cartoon  of  him  appeared  in  Vanity  Fair  in  1897. 


LET  me  break  in  here  with  what  may  be  called  an 
episode  and  interlude  combined,  fitting  in  as 
to  time.  I  stated  at  page  34,  that  I  discarded, 
in  early  life,  any  predilection  I  may  have  entertained 
for  horseflesh  ;  but,  in  London,  about  this  period,  a 
fortuitous  half-crown  might  have  led  on  to  disastrous 
results,  had  not  a  racing  incident  followed  with  a 
counteracting  tendency.  I  give  the  facts  and  leave 
the  moral  to  be  drawn  by  would-be  "  plungers." 

A  friend,  whom  I  will  call  Robinson,  insisted  on  my 
breaking  the  pledge,  which  I  had  inwardly  recorded, 
against  betting,  and  he  peremptorily  demanded  two- 
and-six  as  a  contribution  to  a  "  sweep-stake,"  which 


Photo:  Fry,  BriyMon. 


TJIK    KK\.    AliTHUR   KOBINS. 


I  GO  TO  THE  ST.  LEGER  99 

resulted  in  my  raking  in  sixteen  pounds  odd.  This  was 
a  strong  incentive  to  future  "  flutters."  But,  soon 
after,  Robinson,  who  was  not  by  any  means  a  sporting 
man,  but  enjoyed  going  to  races,  induced  me  to  take 
a  trip  to  the  St.  Leger  under  his  guidance.  This 
resulted  in  an  experience  which  I  have  not  forgotten, 
and  by  which  I  profited  considerably — though  not  in 
a  pecuniary  sense. 

We  were  young — at  least  comparatively  so — 
when  he  and  I  took  that  holiday  together.  Doncaster 
is  a  matchless,  an  ideal  race-course  :  you  can  see 
everything  from  start  to  finish  ;  and,  given  fine 
weather  and  good  spirits,  you  are  bound  to  enjoy 
yourself.  What  with  the  novelty  of  the  scene,  the 
excitement  of  the  "  events,"  and  the  fascinating 
beauty  of  the  ladies,  small  wonder  if  I  was  on  the 
best  of  terms  with  myself  and  my  surroundings.  It 
was  my  first  experience  of  a  race-course,  and  I  "  took 
stock  "  of  everything  and  everybody. 

We  sat  in  the  midst  of  a  vast  crowd  of  men  and 
women,  tense  and  quivering,  swaying  to  and  fro, 
intent,  watchful,  noisy,  and  good-humoured. 

One  man  alone,  seated  between  me  and  Robinson, 
seemed  unmoved,  old,  staid,  grey-haired  and  respect- 
able, in  a  spotless  frock-coat  and  a  top-hat.  He 
interested  me — looking,  as  he  did,  so  unemotional 
and  out  of  place  in  the  midst  of  such  a  seething  crowd 
of  highly  strung  humanity. 

Soon  after  the  first  race  was  over  a  good-looking 


100  OMNIANA 

young  fellow,  equally  well  dressed,  rushed  up  to  hiin 
in  a  feverishly  excited  state. 

"  Here,  uncle,"  he  said,  handing  the  old  gentleman 
what  appeared  to  be  a  bundle  of  bank  notes.  "  Good 
luck  to  start  with,  anyhow.  I'm  off  again  ;  "  and 
with  a  pleasant  smile,  he  went. 

The  old  gentleman  opened  the  parcel  carefully, 
fingered  some  of  the  notes,  unbuttoned  his  frock-coat, 
and  deposited  them  safely  in  an  inner  breast-pocket ; 
at  the  same  time  heaving  a  profound  sigh  which  seemed 
drawn  from  the  depths  of  despair.  This  struck  me 
as  odd,  not  to  say  incongruous  ;  as  one  would  have 
thought  he  would  have  rejoiced  at  his  nephew's  good 
fortune.  I  wondered  and  was  interested  ;  and  my 
interest  grew  to  fever  heat  when  the  young  man 
returned  a  second  and  a  third  time,  to  repeat  the 
process  of  handing  over  winnings,  which  merely 
served  to  draw  from  the  breast  of  this  confiding  uncle, 
sigh  after  sigh — each,  if  possible,  more  profoundly  sad 
than  the  one  which  went  before  it. 

I  felt  that  I  must  address  this  sorrowful  old  man  ; 
penetrate  the  mystery  ;  give  him  my  sympathy,  or — 
burst.  I  looked  for  help  from  Robinson  ;  but  he  had 
a  vacuous  grin  on  his  expansive  countenance,  which 
disgusted  me,  it  indicated  such  a  want  of  feeling. 

"  Your  nephew  is  a  fortunate  chap,  sir,"  1  re- 
marked, tentatively. 

"  Ah  !  you  think  so  ?  "  he  replied,  with  a  mournful 
expression  and  another  sigh. 


A  NICE   OLD   (jENTLEMAX  lui 

Why,  yes,  naturally.  I  am  sorry  to  sec  that 
you  take  so  little  interest  in  his  success."' 

"  So  little  interest,"  he  rephed  ;  "on  the  contrary, 
I  take  so  great  an  interest  in  him,  my  friend  (if  I  may 
call  you  so),  that  I  look  with  profound  sorrow  and 
apprehension  at  this  very  success.  His  luck  is  always 
extraordinary  in  racing  matters.  I  tremble  as  I  see 
it,  and  wish  it  were  otherwise.'' 

' '  You  would  like  him  to  lose  ?  That  seems  strange, 
sir.  By  Jove !  I  confess  I'd  like  to  win  and  sec  all  my 
friends  and  relatives  do  the  same." 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said,  repeating  the  sigh,  "  you  gamble 
and  bet  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  don't ;  but,  if  1  did,  1  confess  1  should 
not  like  to  lose." 

Then,  calmly,  and  with  apparently  suppressed 
emotion,  he  there  and  then,  took  me  into  his  con- 
fidence. Robinson  grinned  as  the  conversation  pro- 
gressed, but  said  nothing.  The  old  gentleman  was, 
according  to  his  own  statement,  extremely  wealthy. 
This  young  man  was  to  be  his  heir,  and  was  the  apple 
of  his  eye.  Unfortunately  the  nephew  inherited 
from  his  father  (who  ruined  himself  on  the  turf)  an 
insatiable  lust  for  betting  on  liorses,  and  this  was  his 
only  vice.  "  He  does  not  care  for  the  money,  as  you 
see  ;  he  hands  it  all  over  to  me.  He  does  not  need  it. 
I  don't  stint  him,  and  he  can  always  command  un- 
limited cash,  when  he  wants  it.  The  only  hold  I 
have  on  him  is  b}^  falling  m  an  ith  this  Ijctting  weakness 


102  OMNI  ANA 

of  his,  in  the  hope  that  I  may  gradually  influence  hini 
for  the  better,  and  wean  him  from  this  one  vice — for 
he  has,  as  I  have  already  said,  no  other.  If  I  were 
to  lose  touch  with  him  or  become  apparently  un- 
sympathetic, he  might  go  headlong  to  perdition.  My 
only  chance  of  effecting  a  cure  is  to  seem  interested 
in  what  is  merely  a  source  of  anmsement  to  him.  In 
time,  I  may  hope  to.  But,  hush  !  not  a  word.  Here 
he  comes  again.  "  Well,  George !  What — more 
winnings- — more  luck  ?  " 

"  Seems  so,  uncle.  Not  much  this  time,  though. 
Here  you  are — ten  fivers." 

The  old  gentleman  put  them  away  with  the  rest, 
remarking  as  he  did  so  :  "  My  friend  on  the  right, 
George,  has  been  discussing  your  phenomenal 
success." 

"  Yes,  I  don't  know  how  you  manage  it,"  I  said, 
addressing  the  nephew,  "  some  good  angel "' 

"  Oh,  angels  have  got  nothing  to  do  with  it,  I 
assure  you,"  he  laughed  ;  "  there's  really  no  secret 
about  it.  You  have  only  got  to  choose  your  company, 
and  get  in  with  straight,  honest  men  of  the  right  sort, 
and  stick  to  them.  Don't  go  running  after  tips  from 
strangers,  because  if '' 

I  took  him  up  short.  '"  Well,"  I  said,  "  1  should 
not  mind  taking  a  tip  from  you,  though  you  are  a 
stranger.  I'm  not  a  sporting  man,  but  FU  trust  you 
straight  off  the  reel  with  a  tenner,  if  youll  put  it  on 
for  me.     I'll  even  leave  the  selection  to  yourself." 


1   AM  VICTIMISED  103 

George  displayed  what  appeared  to  me  a  becoming 
hesitation  at  fust,  but  relented,  on  a  word  from  his 
relative.  "  Well,  if  he  is  a  friend  of  yours,  uncle, 
that's  enough  ;  though,  as  you  know,  I  don't,  on 
principle,  Hke  to  risk  other  people's  money.  However, 
if  you  wish,  sir,"  turning  to  me,  "  well  and  good." 
So  saying,  he  vanished,  and  the  fate  of  my  ten-pound 
note  was  in  his  hands. 

The  benevolent  old  gentleman  sighed  again,  as  he 
settled  himself  in  his  seat ;  and  Robinson's  grin 
seemed  to  spread  all  over  his  face  as  he  adjusted  his 
glass  to  watch  the  race.  I  let  him  grin — what  did  it 
matter  to  me  ?  If  he  hked  to  look  silly  it  was  none 
of  my  business.  It  was  wonderful  what  increased 
interest  that  particular  race  had  for  me  with  my  ten- 
pound  stake  depending  on  it.  I  thought  it  would 
never  end,  but  it  did.  I  was  all  expectation,  watching 
for  George.  The  old  gent  sighed  again,  but  I  hardly 
heeded  him  as  his  nephew  approached — crestfallen 
and  disappointed.  There  were  no  notes  to  be  handed 
over  this  time. 

"  I  am  extremely  sorry,  sir,"  said  the  young  man, 
turning  to  me,  "  that  I  was  induced  to  risk  your 
money.  It  has  broken  my  luck,  and  we  are  both  at 
a  loss." 

Here  Kobinson,  rubbing  his  hands  together  cheer- 
fully, interjected  his  only  remark  :  "  Try  another 
tenner  ?  " 

"  No  !    no  !  "   said  the  old  gentleman,   starting 


lul  OMNI  ANA 

excitctlly  to  his  feet,  and  gesticulating  with  botli 
hands.  "  1  protest.  I  won't  have  it,  George  ;  this 
young  gentleman  is  a  stranger  to  me.  I  can't  let 
hill)  incm-  any  more  risk  ;  and,  if  you  take  my  advice," 
turning  to  Eobinson,  "  you'll  take  the  hint  and  do 
nothing  on  your  own  account  either.'' 

"  All  right,  governor !  "  responded  Kobinson, 
with  a  wink  on  top  of  the  smile,  ''I'll  take  him  home 
to  his  mother." 

The  old  gentleman  rose,  with  dignity ;  and, 
ignoring  Robinson,  walked  sadly  away.  Both  he 
and  the  nephew  shook  hands  warmly  with  me  again, 
expressing  regret  at  my  ill-luck. 

*'  You're  an  awfully  bad-mannered  chap,  to  say 
the  least  of  it,"  I  remarked,  "  positively  vulgar  some- 
times," 1  turned  to  confront  and  confound  Robinson. 
There  he  stood  with,  if  possible,  a  broader  grin  than 
ever  on  his  face.  In  fact  he  was  laughing  all  over — 
(juivering  with  suppressed  merriment. 

"  Well !  "  he  said.  "  AVhy,  you  silly  ass,  that 
old  beggar  and  his  nephew  are  a  regular  plant.  I've 
seen  'em  often  enough.  The  only  notes  that  ain't 
dummies  are  the  ones  they  rake  in  from  flats  hke  you  ! 
He  spotted  you  at  once." 

Since  that  time  I  have  never  been  to  a  race- 
course, but  I  have  devoted  any  spare  time  to 
literature. 


DR.   THOMAS  FULLER  iU5 

1WAS  always  an  omnivorous  reader,  and  the  bio- 
graphies of  great  nien^ — real  actors  in  the  drama 
of  life — had  ever  a  special  attraction  for  me. 
My  evenings  in  what  I  may  call  the  intermediate 
stages  of  my  unsettled  career,  1  had  very  much  at  my 
own  disposal,  and  devoted  them  to  study.  Wherever 
I  made  temporary  stay,  there  were  almost  certain  to 
be  found  public  hbraries  ;  and,  in  addition  to  de- 
sultory and  varied  reading,  I  was  always  on  the  look- 
out for  genealogical  information  re  Fullers  ;  and, 
naturally,  with  such  a  strong  predilection  for  family 
history  and  pedigree,  my  heart  warmed  to  the  most 
illustrious  of  my  race — that  "  stout  old  Church  and 
King  man,"  Dr.  Thomas  Fuller,  author  of  the  Church 
History,  the  British  Worthies,  and  a  host  of  theological 
works  ;  whose  "  golden  books,"  says  Charles  Lamb, 
"  I  part  from  bleeding  "  ;  and  of  whom  Coleridge 
says,  "  next  to  Shakespeare,  I  am  not  certain  whether 
he,  beyond  all  other  writers,  does  not  excite  in  me 
the  sense  of  the  marvellous.  He  was  incomparably 
the  most  sensible,  the  least  prejudiced  great  man  of  an 
age  that  boasted  a  galaxy  of  great  men.  Shakespeare, 
Milton,  Fuller,  De  Foe,  Hogarth— they  were  wiiques. 
I  do  not  say  that,  Avith  the  exception  of  the  first, 
names  of  equal  glory  may  not  be  produced,  in  a 
different  hind  ;  but  these  are  genera,  containing,  each, 
only  one  individual."  The  biographer  of  Southey 
tells  us  that  Fuller  "  was  the  poet's  favourite  author." 


lOG  OMNIANA 

The  compiliilioji  of  his  two  principal  works,  which  I 
have  named,  must  have  entailed  an  enormous  amount 
of  labour  and  research,  which,  nevertheless,  did  not 
interfere  with  his  strenuous  life  as  chaplain  to  the 
King  during  the  Civil  War,  or  his  output  of  books. 
To  obtain  a  complete  set  of  these  was  no  easy  task, 
as  several  are  very  rare  ;  and,  two  of  them  I  am  still  in 
search  of.  From  a  little  anonymous  Life  pubhshed 
in  1661  (the  year  of  his  death),  a  copy  of  which  is  in 
the  British  Museum,  I  quote  the  following  quaint 
description,  w^hich  agrees  well  with  the  portrait  repro- 
duced from  the  original  in  the  possession  of  Lord  Fitz 
Hardinge  at  Cranford  House.  "  He  was  of  Stature 
"  somewhat  Tall,  with  a  proportionate  Bigness,  but 
"  no  way  inclining  to  Corpulency :  of  an  exact 
"  Straightness  of  the  whole  Body,  and  a  perfect 
"  Symmetry :  of  a  Sanguine  Constitution  which 
"  Beautified  his  Face  with  a  pleasant  Ruddiness  ; 
"  but  of  a  Grave  and  Serious  aspect.  His  Head 
"  adorned  with  a  comely  Light  Coloured  Hare,  which 
"  was,  by  Nature,  exactly  Curled,  but  not  suffered  to 
"  overgroAV  to  any  length  unseeming  his  Modesty 
"  and  Proportion.  His  Gate  and  Walking  was  very 
"  upright  and  graceful,  becoming  his  well-shapen 
"  Bulke  ;  approaching  something  near  to  what  we 
"  term  Majestical." 

Genial  and  good-hearted  soul  as  he  was,  he  could 
hardly  escape  enmity.  Dr.  Saltmarsh  abused  him, 
and  that  bitter  Higli  Church  wasp,  Dr.  Peter  Heylin, 


DR.    THOMAS   FULLER. 

(From  a  portiiiit  in  the  possession  of  Lord  ritz-Ilardinge.) 


DR.  PETER  HEYLIN  107 

attacked  his  Church  History  furiously  and  vindictively. 
Fuller,  in  his  Appeal  of  Injured  Innoceyice,  replied 
calmly,  exhaustively,  and  triumphantly  ;  and,  having 
vanquished  his  enemy,  wrote  a  long  and  touching  letter 
to  Heyhn,  from  the  close  of  which  I  cannot  resist 
making  a  short  extract :  "  You  know  full  well,  sir, 
in  heraldry  two  lioncels  rampant  endorsed,*  are 
said  to  be  the  emblems  of  two  valhant  men  meeting 
in  the  field,  but  forbidden  to  fight,  or  departing  on 
terms  of  equality  agreed  on  between  themselves. 
\Vhereupon,  turning  back  to  back,  neither  con- 
querors nor  conquered,  they  depart  the  field  their 
several  ways  (their  stout  stomachs  not  suffering 
them  to  go  the  same  way)  least  it  be  accounted  an 
injury  one  to  precede  the  other.  In  like  manner 
I  know  you  disdain  to  allow  me  your  equal  in  this 
controversy  ;  and  I  will  not  allow  you  my  superior. 
Let  it  be  a  drawn  battle.  Thus  parting  and  going 
out  back  to  back  here,  I  hope  we  shall  meet  in 
heaven  face  to  face  hereafter.  Who  knoweth  but 
that  God,  in  his  providence  permitted,  yea  ordered 
this  difference  betwixt  us  not  only  to  occasion  a 
reconsideration  but  to  consolidate  a  friendship, 
during  our  lives,  and  that  the  survivor  (in  God's 
pleasure  only  to  appoint)  may  make  favourable 
mention  of  him  who  goeth  first  to  his  grave." 
"  I  do  not  recollect,"  says  Nichols,  "  to  have  read  a 
"letter  in  any  language  equal  to  this,  the  composition 

*  He  was  an  enthusiastic  herald  and  genealogist. 


108  OxMNlANA 

"  oi  ail.  old  wiinior  who,  Iccling  that  lie  Lad  obtained 
*'  a  well-contested  victory,  could  aftoid  to  be  generous. 
■■  The  line  Christian  spirit  which  breathes  through 
''  the  whole  of  this  elegant  epistle — at  once  manly 
*'  and  tender — disaimed  tlie  wrath  of  Heyhn  "  ;  but 
I  am  not  awaje  that  he,  who  survived  Fuller  but  a 
year,  ever  comphed  with  the  request.  We  may  hope 
that  it  was  fully  his  intention  to  render  due  honour 
to  the  deceased. 

iMiller's  wife,  the  Hon.  Mary  Koper,  daughter  of 
Lord  Baltinglass,'''  A\as  tlie  sister  of  Jjady  Denny  of 
Tralee  Castle,  Co.  Kerry,  which  brought  him  into  close 
touch  with  my  native  county.  She  was  a  grand- 
daughter of  James  Pilkington,  Bishop  of  Durham, 
who  had  the  temerity  to  fight  with  Queen  Ehzabeth, 
and  was  by  her  deprived  of  £1000  a  year,  ^vhich  she 


*  Instances  of  two  children  bearing  tlie  saiiie  Christian  name-  -by 
the  same  ])arents — and  living  at  the  same  time,  are  not  unfrequently 
found  in  old-time  records,  and  this  name  of  Roper  furnishes  an  illustra- 
tion. William  Nott,  whose  will  is  dated  1575,  had  two  daughters 
named  Elizabeth.  One  married  twice  (see  Planning  and  Bray,  vol.  ii, 
p.  790),  and  the  other  married  llobert  Rojier  (see  Herald  and 
Genealogist,  vol.  viii,  p.  206),  who  was  of  the  same  family  as  Mrs.  Fuller. 
An  instance  I  have  met  with  recently  was  the  case  tried  in  Court  of 
Arches,  Doctor's  Commons,  dated  May  20th,  1874  :  Thomas  Adams 
'■  brother  and  sole  executor  uf  Thomas  Adams,  deceased."  Another, 
was  that  of  the  Fanes.  Cieorge  Fane  of  Biadsel,  Esq.,  High  Shcritl'  of 
Kent,  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  had  two  sons  to  whom  he  gave  the 
name  of  Thomas,  "  after  a  fashion,"'  says  the  Ancestor,  vol.  xii,  p.  6, 
"deplorable  to  the  genealogist."  They  were  both  Knights.  One 
was  governor  of  Dover  Castle,  and  ^l.V.  for  llic  borough,  the  other 
was  implicated  in  ^^'yatt■s  rising  in  Kent,  sentenced  to  be  executed 
and  pardoned,  ultimately  becoming  ancestor  of  the  Earls  of  Wmchelsca. 


QUESTION   AND  ANSWER  109 

allocated  to  the  Corporation  of  Berwick,  for  defensive 
purposes/-' 

Of  course  the  Doctor  did  not  escape  the  question 
put  by  deists  and  others  to  the  orthodox  Divine,  and 
which  still  awaits  an  authoritative  reply,  namely, 
"  the  ultimate  fate  of  the  untold  millions  who  died 
"  before  the  introduction  of  Christianity,  and  who 
"  therefore  could  not  avail  themselves  of  what  was 
"  never  within  their  reach.  If  they  are  eternally 
"  lost  souls,  what  of  the  justice  and  mercy  of  their 
"  Creator  ?  If  not  lost  souls,  then  what  need  for  the 
''  subsec(uent  atonement  on  the  Cross  ?  " 

Fuller's  reply  was  that,  in  order  to  secure  the 
r[uerist's  own  salvation  it  was  not  necessary  the 
question  should  be  answered.  The  retort  met 
the  individual  case  admirably ;  but,  in  the  concrete, 
it  has  not  been  logically  solved  by  any  theologian  ; 
though  much  has  been  written  upon  it.  This,  how- 
ever, is  the  fate  of  many  other  disputed  points  of 
dogma  which  have  loudly  called  for  settlement,  but 
have  not  reached  it — lending  force  to  the  remark  of 
Mr,  Shandy :  "  'Tis  a  pity  that  truth  can  only  be 
on  one  side,  brother  Toby,  considering  what  ingenuity 
these  learned  men  have  all  shown  in  their  solutions."  t 

*  I  give  my  descent  from  Bishop  Pilkington  in  Appendix  (I). 

t  For  instance,  eaily  in  the  eighteenth  century,  the  Rev.  Toby 
Swinden  endeavoured  to  locate  the  Infernal  Regions,  and  declared 
them  to  be  in  the  Sim — the  abode  of  the  devil  and  his  angels  ;  and  that 
it  "  will  be  the  fate  of  ungodly  men  to  be,  both  soul  and  body,  cast  into 
it — a  lake  of  fire  that  burneth,  day  and  night,  for  ever."     He  quotes 


no  OMNI  ANA 

The  great  charm  about  Fuller  is  that  he  possessed, 
to  an  eminent  degree,  the  saving  grace  of  humoiu'. 
A  lambent  light  of  kindliness,  disclosing  a  most 
lovable  personaUty,  plays  about  his  pages.  These 
qualities  are  what  Heyhn  lacked,  who  had  neither 
humour  nor  kindUness,  and  was  a  mere  theological 
pedant.  Both  were  staunch  Churchmen  ;  but  Heylin 
was  intolerant  of  Fuller's  tolerance  ;  he  could  write 
an  elaborate  and  learned  treatise  to  refute  the  doctrine 
of  Election  and  Reprobation  ;  while  Fuller  would  be 
content  with  throwing  off  a  pithy  and  epigrammatic 
paragraph,  and  was  absolutely  free  from  all  literary 
jealousy.  He  would  have  given  due  credit  even  to 
Tom  Paine  for  his  refutation  of  this  Calvinistic 
doctrine  in  a  single  sentence.  "  Preachers,"  says 
Paine,  "  tell  us  that  God  predestined,  and  selected  from 
all  eternity,  a  certain  number  to  be  saved,  and  a 
certain  number  to  be  damned.  If  this  were  true,  then 
the  day  of  judgment  is  past,  and  their  preaching  is 
A^ain."  The  aptness  and  cogency  of  this  sentence 
would  have  dehghted  good  old  Fuller,  for  it  was  in  his 
own  vein. 

Revelations  xvi.  8, 9,  in  sujiport  of  his  belief.  But  others  held  it,  with  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas,  to  be  a  fire  in  the  earth's  centre,  Lessius  goes  into  a 
minute  calculation  as  to  the  space  available.  He  says  that,  cubically 
measured,  allowing  every  body  six  feet  square,  it  will  hold  "  eight 
hundred  thousand  millions  of  damned  souls,  which  will  abundant^ 
suffice."  But  will  it  ?  '"  Better  doubt  of  things  concealed,  than 
contend  about  uncertainties."     Let  us  leave  it  at  that. 


A  COURSE  OF  THEOLOGY  ill 

BECAUSE  of  the  compulsory  surfeit  of  religious 
instruction  which  I  underwent  as  a  schoolboy, 
no  one  but  this  genial  large-hearted  Divine, 
a  scion,  happily,  of  my  own  race,  could  have  induced 
me,  in  after  years,  to  open  a  theological  book  ;  but 
he  succeeded  in  awaking  an  interest  which  had  lain 
so  long  dormant,  and  which  is  latent  in  the  breast  of 
even  the  most  lax  of  latitudinarians.  After  a  course 
of  Fuller,  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Tillotson, 
South,  Barrow,  Sherlock,  Jeremy  Taylor,  Butler, 
and  a  host  of  others. 

I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  went  systematically 
through  all  their  voluminous  pages,  to  the  extent 
of  hopelessly  impairing  my  ethical  digestion  ;  but 
rather  that  I  assimilated  here  and  there,  whatever 
had  a  peptic  tendency  :  anything  more  than  this 
meant,  simply,  bewilderment ;  for  not  only  is  it 
that  there  are  two  sides  to  every  cjuestion,  but  that 
each  individual  dogma  has  too  many  sides  to  be 
counted.  It  is  not  to  be  expected  that  the  connoisseur 
should  drain  every  bottle  in  a  well-stocked  cellar. 
He  is  content  to  sample  the  different  vintages — 
sipping,  testing  the  aroma,  and  nosing  the  houquet  of 
each.  This  process  as  apphed  by  me,  led  to  the 
conviction  that  the  "  odour  of  sanctity  "  was  inter- 
mingled largely  with,  and  overborne  by  the  odour 
of  brimstone.  Clearly  theology  could  not  dispense 
with  the  sulphurous  cogency  of  Hell,  and  its  eternity 


112  OMNI  ANA 

of  physical  torment — always  one  of  the  strongest 
planks  in  the  platform  of  controversy.  It  was 
necessary,  for  terrorising  piu'poses,  that  creeds  should 
be  provided  with  a  personal  devil,  set  up  as  a  scare- 
crow to  affright  the  timid  and  the  doubting ;  but  he 
has  now  practically  ceased  to  scare  the  majority  ; 
and  the  field  over  which  he  dominated  is  overrun  ^\ath 
daring  trespassers.*  The  early  Fathers  of  the  Chui'ch, 
as  we  know,  dwelt  elaborately,  exhaustively,  and 
indeed  one  may  say  lovingly,  on  details  of  the  ex- 
cruciating agonies  awaiting  all  condemned  souls  ;  and 
explained  how  the  contemplation  of  their  sufferings 
would  add  to  the  felicity  of  the  saved  ones.  St. 
Thomas  Aquinas  says  :  Beati  in  regno  ccehsti  videbunt 
foenas  damnatorum  ut  heatitudo  illis  magis  comflaceat. 
Surely,  souls  which  could  derive  excess  of  happiness 
from  contemplating  misery  and  torture,  deserved  to  be 
in  hell  themselves  rather  than  in  heaven.  Tertulian 
positively  gloats  over  the  horrors  he  describes. 

Through  the  ages,  the  devout  Chi^istian  was 
obsessed  by  this  belief  in  the  personality  of  Satan 
(with  horns,  a  forked  tail,  and  cloven  hoofs),  torment- 
ing those  hapless  ones  whom  God  had  rejected  and 

*  Lately  I  have  been  reading  Count  Von  Hoensbroech's  Fourteen 
Years  a  Jesuit.  He  says :  '•  Father  Von  Doss  drove  the  fear  of  the 
devil  into  the  very  marrow  of  iny  bones.  Happily  the  dread  of  this 
worst  phantom  of  religious  folly  and  dogmatic  narrowness  was  expelled 
hence  long  ago."  In  Ireland,  a  centiny  since,  the  faithful  had  a  lively 
picture  of  Hell  furnished  by  a  cheap  translation  and  the  circulation  of 
the  .Tesuit  Pinamonti's  book  on  the  subject. 


CROMWELL  AND   THE  DEVIL  113 

pitchforking  tlieiii  into  the  flanies.  Nay,  the  early 
1^'athers  even  came  to  beHeve  in  the  figment  which 
they  had  themselves  created,  and  were  overawed  by 
it.  "  Miserable  and  woeful  creatures  that  we  are," 
said  St.  Chrysostojn  to  the  African  conjuror,  "  wc 
cannot  so  much  as  expel  fleas,  much  less  devils." 
Satan  and  his  imps  became  entities  which  had  to  be 
reckoned  ^vith  by  poor  humanity,  down  to  recent 
times.  The  Reformation  did  not  question  the  exist- 
ence of  his  Satanic  majesty  in  the  flesh.  "  Being 
roused  by  a  noise  in  my  room,"'  says  Luther,  "  and 
perceiving  it  was  only  the  devil,  I  went  to  sleep  again." 
On  another  occasion,  we  know  that  he  shied  an  ink- 
bottle  at  the  same  unwelcome  visitor — the  mark  of 
which  exists  to  this  day — testifying  not  only  to  the 
identity  of  the  ink,  but  of  the  intruder.  Ignatius 
Loyola  saw,  suspended  in  the  air,  a  shining  serpent, 
and,  recognising  that  he  was  the  devil,  he  drove  him 
away  with  a  stick ;  Pope  Gerbert,  according  to 
Bishop  Otho,  got  his  pontificate  by  a  compact  with 
his  Satanic  majesty  ;  and  Echard,  in  his  History  of 
England,  gives  us  a  wonderful  story  of  an  interview 
between  Oliver  Cromwell  and  the  same  gentleman, 
at  which  Colonel  Lindsay  was  present.  "  It  was 
"  believed,  and  that  not  without  good  cause,  that 
"  Cromwell,  the  same  day  he  defeated  the  King's  army 
''  at  AVorcester,  had  conference  personally  with  the 
"  Devil,  in  a  wood,  with  whom  he  made  a  contract 
*'  to  have  his  will  for  seven  years,  in  all  things,  from 


114  OMNI  ANA 

"  that  day  ;  and  that,  at  the  expiration,  he  (the 
"  Devil)  should  have  him  at  command,  both  with  his 
"  soul  and  body.  A  vahant  officer  called  Colonel 
"  Lindsey,  an  intimate  friend  of  Cromwell,  was 
"  present,  and  was  bid  by  him,  to  take  particular 
"  notice  of  what  he  saw  and  heard."  Lindsey  was 
seized  with  terror  and  horror  at  what  he  did  hear  and 
see.  The  two  wrangled  over  terms.  Cromwell  in- 
sisted that  the  agreement  was  to  have  been  for  twenty- 
one  years  ;  then  he  held  out  for  fourteen  ;  but, 
finally,  had  to  be  content  with  seven.  Lindsey  got 
such  a  fright,  the  historian  tells  us,  that  he  hastily 
mounted  his  horse,  deserted,  and  rode  full  speed  into 
Norfolk,  pulhng  up  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Thoroughgood, 
the  Minister  of  his  parish.  Wlien  the  reverend 
gentleman  "  saw  his  friend  come  into  the  yard,  his 
"  horse  tired,  and  himself  in  a  Maze,  he  said  :  '  How 
"  now,  Colonel  ?  '  Said  the  other,  '  Yes,  I  am  sure 
"  there  has  been  a  Battel,  and  the  King  is  Beaten  ; 
"  but,  if  ever  I  Strike  a  Stroak  for  Cromwell  again, 
"  may  I  perish  Eternally  ;  for  he  has  made  a  League 
'*  with  the  Devil,  and  the  Devil  will  have  him  in  Due 
"  Time.'  Then  he  told  the  story,  concluding  with 
"  these  remarkable  words,  that  Cromwell  would  die  that 
"  day  seven  years  that  this  Battel  was  fought ;  and  so 
"  it  came  to  ^iass.'' 

But  it  needed  moral  rather  than  physical  courage 
to  get  rid  of  the  personal  devil.  The  belief  in  him 
died  hard.    Even  now  it  cannot  be  said  to  be  wholly 


I  MAKE  A  THEOLOGICAL  EXCURSUS    115 

gone  ;  but,  anyhow,  the  supposition  that  the  sufferings 
of  children  in  hell  should  increase  the  happiness  of 
their  more  fortunate  parents  in  heaven,  or  vice  versa, 
seemed  so  horrible  and  incredible,  that  Divines  of 
the  seventeenth  and  subsequent  centuries,  harassed 
by  deists,  latitudinarians,  universalists,  rationalists, 
and  agnostics,  had  to  shift  their  ground,  and  propound 
the  less  revolting  doctrine  that  all  human  and  natiu'al 
affections  ceased  with  death  ;  and  that  thus,  the 
saved  were  spared  all  consciousness  of  the  tortures 
infhcted  on  those  once  dear  to  them  here.  This  was 
the  best  that  could  be  made  of  the  situation,  and  was 
considered  satisfactory  by  Dr.  Doddridge  and  others 
of  greater  mental  calibre  ;  but,  to  dispense  with  the 
devil  altogether  was,  for  a  long  time  unthinkable. 

The  great  mistake  made  in  the  past  by  the  layman, 
was,  allowing  all  thinldng  to  be  done  for  him.  "  The 
average  man,"  says  John  Duke  of  Buckingham  in  his 
autobiography,  "  is  no  more  fit  to  solve  abstruse 
problems,  than  a  fish  is  to  play  a  game  of  bowls." 
(A  simile  which  speaks  volumes.) 

But  when  the  average  man  took  up  the  cudgels 
in  real  earnest,  as  he  did  about  the  end  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  a  fierce  fight  ensued.  The  upheaval  was 
terrific. 

I  made  an  excursus  into  the  theological  battle- 
field, and  found  the  conflict  exciting  and  intensely 
interesting. 

George    Borrow's   "  man  in    black "  in  Romany 


Ill)  OMNI  ANA 

Rye  attributes  the  ascendancy  of  Christianity,  to  its 
superior  fighting  povvei".  I  am  not  prepared  to 
accept,  in  its  entirety,  such  a  sweeping  conckision  ; 
but,  there  may  be  "  something  in  it,"  all  the  same. 

There  were  many  doughty  men  engaged  in  this 
particular  fight.  The  great  Berkeley  alone  seemed 
undisturbed  by  the  odium  theologicum ;  while  he 
laboured— with  no  more  sustaining  beverage  than 
tar-water — to  eliminate  matter  from  the  universe, 
and  perfect  his  Ideal  Theory. 

There  were  "wigs  on  the  green,"  mitres  and  croziers 
Ijattered  and  broken,  any  amount  of  dust,  and  the 
deafening  din  of  battle.  Proverbially  the  looker-on 
sees  most  of  the  game — sitting  on  the  fence — as  I  did. 
I  found  Matthew  Tindal  jnaintaining  a  stiff  fight, 
against  long  odds,  with  Clarke,  Conybeare,  Layland, 
and  Law  ;  and,  at  the  start,  delivering  a  staggering 
blow  against  his  orthodox  opponents  by  quoting 
Richard  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  as  saying  that 
"  Christianity  Avould  be,  perhaps,  the  last  rehgion  a 
wise  man  would  choose,  if  he  were  guided  by  the  lives 
of  those  who  profess  it."  *  Anthony  Colhns,  equally 
heavily  handicapped,  was  left  for  dead,  after  contest 

*  The  best  reply  to  Tiudal's  Christianity  as  old  as  the  Creation  was 
Avrittcn  by  the  Rev.  Simon  Bro-mie,  a  dissenting  minister,  and  is  entitled 
A  Defence  of  the  Religion  of  Nature.  See  for  an  account  of  this  extra- 
ordinary man,  No.  88  of  The  Adventurer.  He  went  completely  oflf  his 
head,  mider  the  conviction  thai  (J^od  had  arbitrarily  deprived  him  of  his 
reasoning  powers,  and  reduced  him  to  the  condition  of  a  mere  animal ; 
and  he  suffered  agonies  from  the  bcUef  that  ijc  was  lost. 


THE   DEISTIC  CONTROVEESY  117 

with  Bentley,  the  Dccan  of  St.  Patrick's,  and  othei-s  : 
but,  maldng  a  wonderful  recovery,  he  renewed  the 
fight  later  on  with  Bishop  Chandler.  Woolaston  was 
pitted  against  the  Bishop  of  St.  David's  ;  Annet 
against  Shei'lock ;  Toland  against  Peter  Brown ; 
Conyers-Middleton  against  Waterland  ;  Warburton 
against  Bolingbroke,  who  was  supported  by  a  host  of 
lesser  fry  ;  while  the  pohshed  and  optimistic  Shaftes- 
bury—always  in  full  dress,  so  to  speak— contended 
with  the  uncouthly-garbed,  unscrupulous,  iconoclastic 
Mandeville  ;  and  Horseley  was  at  daggei's  drawn  with 
Priestly. 

I  am  bound,  in  fairness,  to  admit  that,  as  far  as 
I  am  capable  of  judging,  orthodoxy  had  far  and  away 
the  best  of  the  conflict.  Though  it  suffered  severely 
at  the  hands  of  its  opponents,  it  survived  the  shock, 
and  held  on  tenaciously  to  its  devil ;  handing  him 
down  to  our  own  time  as  an  asset  to  be  reckoned 
with— a  fersona  ingrnta  against  whose  machinations 
our  loving  mothers  still  teach  us  how  to  pray. 


AND  here,  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  give  an 
interesting  fact  as  related  by  the  mother  of  a 
great  Divine.     Melesina  Trench,  in  a  letter 
to  Mary  Leadbeater  {nee  Fuller)  tells  a  story  of  her 
"  second  little  boy,"  and  how,  when  she  admonished 
him,  after  an  angry  bout  with  a  play-mate,  remarking 


118  OiMNIANA 

that  "  we  should  meet  all  our  friends  in  heaven,"  got 
for  answer  "  with  the  most  satisfied  expression  (the 
itahes  are  hers),  and  the  countenance  which  painters 
give  to  a  seraph,  '  Oh  !  no !  for  some  of  our  friends 
will  be  in  Hell ! '  ''  This  was  in  1813  ;  and  the  son 
was  Richard  Chenevix  Trench,  then  six  years  old — 
the  future  High  Church  Archbishop  of  Dublin  ;  a 
delightful  fact  to  which  he  does  not  refer  in  her 
Remains,  edited  by  him  ;  *  and  which,  also,  seems  to 
have  escaped  the  notice  of  his  own  biographer.  The 
boy  developed,  as  we  know,  into  one  of  the  largest- 
hearted  of  men,  who,  in  after  life,  must  have  sorely 
grieved  over  the  dire  necessity  of  a  contingency  in 
which,  through  hfe,  he  firmly  believed  ;  but,  neverthe- 
less, he  would  have  sorrowfully  done  penance,  in  the 
largest  capitals,  for  that  early  uncharitableness  which 
his  mother  emphasised  by  italics.  He  held  firmly  in 
his  maturer  years  what  he  had  been  taught  in 
infancy  ;  but  he  was  kindly  to  a  fault :  a  great, 
large-souled,  and  learned  Prelate. 

The  fact  is  that  mankind  individually  is,  nowadays, 
tenderer  than  its  aggregate  in  creeds.  But  between 
all  the  Christian  sects,  there  is  in  one  respect,  hardly 
a  pin  to  choose.  All  the  strong  ones  persecuted  in  the 
past ;  and  the  weak  ones  lacked,  not  the  propensity, 
but  the  power  to  persecute.  For,  in  proportion  as  each 
one  beheved  in  the  efficacy  and  saving  grace  of  his 

*  Remains  nj  Mrs.  Richard  Trench.     Edited  by  her  son,  then  Dean 
of  Westminster.     London,  18fi2, 


DECAY  OF  PERSECUTION  119 

particular  tenets,  was  he  bound,  in  conscience,  to 
propagate  them,  and  to  suppress  all  others.  To  make 
no  effort  to  drive  straying  sheep  out  of  the  broad 
way,  and  force  them  into  the  narrow  one,  was  to  be 
worse  than  the  wanderers  themselves ;  and  thus 
coercion  became  the  surest  test  of  sincerity.  "  Perse- 
cution," says  Hallam,  "  is  the  deadly  original  sin  of 
the  Reformed  Churches,  that  which  cools  every  honest 
man's  zeal  for  their  cause "  ;  a  statement  which 
Lecky  endorses.  "  Persecution,"  he  says,  "  among 
the  early  Christians,  was  a  distinct  and  definite 
doctrine,  digested  into  elaborate  treatises.  It  was  the 
doctrine  of  the  palmiest  days  of  Protestantism  "  (as 
he  admits  it  always  was  of  Romanism).  Against  this 
contention  I  recall  one  egregious  assertion  made, 
years  ago,  by  a  clergyman,  which  so  impressed  me  by 
its  fatuity,  that  I  never  forgot  it ;  and  I  recently 
hunted  it  up  among  the  files  of  the  Irish  Ecclesiastical 
Gazette,  The  statement  was  made  in  the  eighties, 
while  he  was  only  an  Archdeacon.  "  We  are  very 
often  told,"  he  says,  "  that  there  were  martyrs  on  the 
other  side — that  there  were  a  great  number  of  Roman 
Catholics  put  to  death  for  their  rehgion— yet  it  is  a 
matter  of  fact  that  there  is  no  ground  whatever  for 
stating  that  there  were  any — it  is  entirely  an  untruth ! " 
This  Divine  became  subsequently  a  Bishop.* 

*  Of  Fisher  and  Sir  Thomas  More  it  was  recorded  that  their  heads 
were  set  on  high  on  London  Bridge,  "  among  the  rest  of  the  Carthusians' 
heads,  that  sufl'ered  death  lately,  before  them  "  ;   and  Caulfield,  in  his 


120  OMNI  ANA 

But  of  course  ouo  has  romc  across  equally  egregious 
statements  made  by  much  greater  men  than  he. 
St.  Augustine  denied  existence  of  the  Antipodes 
because,  he  said,  "  if  God  had  peopled  it,  they  would 
be  unable  to  see  Christ  at  his  second  advent  ;  "'  but, 
to  come  down  to  more  inodern  times,  we  have  Arch- 
bishop Usslier,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  calculating 
exactly  the  period  between  the  Creation  and  the 
birth  of  Christ ;  while  Dr.  Lightfoot  (not  the  Victorian 
Bishop,  ])\it  a  Vice-Chancellor  of  Cambridge)  gives 
the  correct  date  of  the  Creation  as  23rd  of  October, 
4004  B.C.  If  we  smile  at  these  pronouncements  we 
may  also  question  others  which  have  been  hopelessly 
luled  out  by  Evolution,  and  by  the  unimpeachable 
testimony  of  geology,  as  to  the  existence  of  man,  for 
untold  ages  behind  Adaiu.  The  great  outcry  raised 
by  the  Churches,  when  Daiwin  came  to  supersede 
Moses,  was  based  on  the  assumption  that  his  cult 
ousted  the  Creator  from  the  scheme  of  creation.  But, 
does  it  ?  Is  he  not  still  immensely  and  inscrutably 
above  and  beyond  the  protoplasm  and  the  amoeba  ? 
Governing  by  fixed  laws  and  not  by  caprice,  he  ceases 
to  be  an  anthropomorphic,  unprincipled,  vindictive, 
immoral  and  capricious  entity,  riding  by  fits  and 
starts,  and  amenable  or  inimical  to  human  influences. 
The  Pantheist  identified  him  with  Nature.    Lucretius, 

Ulstorij  of  the  Gunpowder  Plot,  published  in  1804,  gives  the  names  of 
|)riests,  laymen,  and  women  (about  280),  with  (he  dales  of  their 
execution,  between  the  years  1;150  and  1002  inehisive. 


TOPLADY  AND  McKENZTE  121 

does  not  claim  to  bo  inspired  ;  nor  does  another 
pagan,  Seneca,  whose  creed  is  thus  expressed — 
Quid  enim  aliiid  est  natura  quam  Dens— quia  nee 
natura  sine  Deo  est,  nee  Deus  sine  natura  ;  and  it  is 
only  fair  to  admit  that  behef  in  the  immortality  of 
the  soul  owes  very  much  to  another  illustrious  pagan, 
and  to  later  times  only  the  bewildering  accretions  of 
dogma. 

Of  these  accretions  two  .curious  instances  occur 
to  me.  The  Rev.  Augustus  Toplady,  philosophical 
Calvinist,  who  went  carefully  into  the  matter,  says 
that  because  we  always  fall  short  of  that  perfection 
which  God  requires  we  commit  a  sin  every  second, 
so  that  at  ten  years  old  a  man  might  reckon  on  a  debit 
account  against  him  of  315,036,000  and  an  octo- 
genarian, like  myself,  on  2,510,288,000.  (I  have  not 
checked  these  figures.)  While  Sir  George  McKenzie, 
the  erudite  Scotch  la^7yer,  and  moral  essayist — ■ 
commonly  called  by  the  Covenanters  "  bloody 
George'' — takes  the  same  view  as  to  the  huge 
accumulation  of  sins.  And  both  draw  the  in- 
ference that  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is,  thereby, 
proved ;  since,  obviously,  infinity  is  needed  in 
which  to  wipe  oft"  the  accumulated  arrears  of  in- 
dividual sinners,  no  definite  time  limit  could  be 
fixed.  This  is  the  most  gruesome  of  all  arguments 
for  immortality. 


122  OMNIANA 

NOTHING  is  more  remarkable  than  the  vast 
strides  which  the  principles  of  toleration  have 
made  within  the  last  two  centuries.  In  the 
year  1699  John  Asgill  published  a  book  in  which  he 
advanced  the  theory  that  death  was  avoidable,  and 
that  man  might  physically  live  for  ever.  He  was 
M.P.  in  1703  for  Enniscorthy.  His  book  was  taken 
seriously  by  the  Irish  Parliament.*  He  was  expelled 
from  tlie  House,  and  the  volume  was  ordered  to  be 
bui'iied  by  the  hangman,  publicly,  in  Dublin.  He 
was  afterwards  elected  M.P.  for  Bramber  in  1705  by 
the  English  Parliament,  when  the  same  course  was 
followed  in  London,  and  he  was  expelled  ;  his  book 
burned  in  the  city  ;  and  some  landed  property,  which 
he  had  purchased,  confiscated ;  whereby  he  was 
reduced  to  abject  poverty,  and  died  in  the  Fleet  in 
1738.  Contrast  all  this  with  the  following  facts  from 
my  own  recollection.     An  Irish  clergyman,  the  Rev. 

*  October  11,  1703. — Heard  Mr.  Asgill,  a  member  of  this  House, 
in  Ilia  place  on  an  information  against  him  that  he  is  the  author  of  a 
book  entitled  "An  a7-f/u)ne)it  provin/j  thai  according  to  the  covenant  of 
eternal  life  revealed  in  the  Scriptures  man  inuy  be  translated  from  hence 
into  that  eternal  life  without  passing  through  death,  althongh  the  human 
nature  of  Christ  himself  could  not  be  thus  translated  till  he  had  passed 
through  death.  And  having  examined  several  witnesses  touching  that 
matter  and  heard  what  Mr.  Asgill  could  say  in  his  owu  justification, 
and  ho  being  withdrawn,  resolved  nern.  con. — "  That  it  appears  to  this 
House  that  John  Asgill,  Esq.,  a  member  of  this  House,  is  author  of 
the  said  book."  Resolved—"  That  he  be  expelled  this  House,  and  be 
for  ever  hereafter  incapable  of  being  chosen,  returned,  or  sitting  a 
member  in  any  succeeding  Parliament  in  this  kingdom." 


REV.   TRESHAM  GREGG  123 

Tresham  Gregg,  D.D.,  had  a  similar  "  bee  in  his 
bonnet  "  ;  but  he  was  not  interfered  with,  either  by 
civil  or  ecclesiastical  authority.  The  public  kept  on 
"  never  minding,"  till,  in  due  course,  he  gave  the  lie 
to  his  own  propaganda,  by  passing  away.  He  bom- 
barded all  his  brother  clergy  with  pamphlets.  I 
remember  his  writing  to  the  Venerable  Archdeacon 
Martin  on  this  hobby  ;  who  politely  replied  that,  as 
he  had  only  recently  expended  a  large  sum  in  the 
erection  of  a  family  mausoleum,  he  thought  it  would 
look  fatuous,  and  inconsistent,  if  he  evaded  the 
occupation  of  it.  I  was  the  architect  of  this  mauso- 
leum ;  had  the  story  from  Dr.  Martin  himself ;  and 
congratulated  him  on  escaping  controversy  so  dis- 
creetly.* Another  significant  case  in  point  within 
my  recollection,  was  that  of  the  historian  Froude. 
When  he  pubhshed  his  Neinesis  of  Faith,  it  was 
ostentatiously  burned  by  a  brother  Oxonian,  Dr. 
William  Sewell ;  but  toleration  was  in  the  air,  and 
Sewell  is  now  forgotten. 

Even  still,  to  some  minds  tolerance  is  merely  a 
synonym  for  indifference.  Nevertheless  the  power 
of  the  bigot  to  stop  the  clock  or  even  put  back  the 
hands,  has  all  but  passed  away. 

*  The  Archdeaoon  was  a  remarkable  man,  mentally  and  physicallj', 
learned,  stately,  and  courteous.  He  published  an  able  book  entitled 
The  Lord's  Supper  in  its  Scriptural  and  Sacerdotal  Aspect.  Mrs.  Martin 
was  a  daughter  of  Bishop  Mant.  She  added  her  name  as  an  author, 
to  the  long  roll  of  expositors  of  the  Booh  of  Bevelatioji,  "  who  are,"  in 
the  words  of  Edmniid  Gosse,  '■  forever  chasing  the  |)hantnni  of  Pf)))ery 
through  its  fuliginous  pages." 


124  OMNI  ANA 

T  recall  a  notable  controversy  between  a  biologist 
and  a  bishop — Huxley  and  Wilberforce — which  had 
far-reaching  results.  They  met  in  the  Museum 
Library  at  Oxford  in  1860,  when  the  crowd  was  so 
great  that  ladies  fainted.  The  bishop  wound  up  his 
tirade  with  personalities,  and  finished  by  asking  the 
great  scientist  whether  his  relationship  to  the  ape 
was  through  his  grandfather  or  grandmother.  The 
retort  was  crushing — "  If  there  were  an  ancestor  whom 
1  shoidd  feel  shame  in  recallins;  it  woidd  1)6  a  man  of 
restless  and  versatile  intellect,  who,  not  content  wdth 
equivocal  success  in  his  own  sphere,  plunges  into 
scientific  cjuestions  with  which  he  has  no  real  acquaint- 
ance, only  to  obscure  them  by  an  aimless  rhetoric,  and 
distract  the  attention  of  his  hearers  from  the  real 
point  at  issue,  by  eloquent  digressions  and  skilled 
appeals  to  religious  prejudice." 

There  was  a  flutter  of  excitement  caused  by  the 
a]3pearance  of  the  mildly  heretical  Essays  and  Bevieivs  ; 
also  by  Tract  90,  and  the  Oxford  movement,  and  by 
Ecce  Homo !  Then  there  was  the  pronounced 
heterodoxy  of  Colenso,  for  whom  no  abuse  was  too 
strong  ;  but,  after  all,  it  was  only  abuse  ;  and  the 
Ecclesiastical  Courts  refrained  from  extreme  measures 
which,  tw^o  centuries  ago,  would  have  resulted  in 
terrible  pains  and  penalties.  It  is  true  that,  not 
many  years  since,  the  Rev.  Charles  Voysey  was  de- 
prived of  his  incumbency.  This,  however,  hardly  came 
iindei'  the  head  of  persecution,  or  even  intolerance. 


CONTROVERSIAL  AMENITIES  125 

because  he  had  been  receiving  from  the  Church, 
remuneration  while  preaching  against  her  doctrine, 
and  repudiating  her  tenets,  from  his  pulpit ;  and  she 
could  hardly  be  expected  to  stand  that.  He  was 
only  a  small  man,  and  got  crushed  ;  but  Colenso 
braved  it  out,  and  refused  to  accept  impossibihties 
or  to  beheve  absurdities  which  he  could  not  persuade 
even  his  Zulu  followei's  to  hsten  to  ;  but  he  was  a 
bishop  ;  and  there  remained  nothing  for  it  but  to 
make  a  cock  shot  of  the  man  who  sheltered  negation 
under  his  mitre;  and  to  pelt  the  renegade  who  beUeved 
too  little,  with  the  strongest  denunciatory  expletives 
in  the  language.  But  hard  words  break  no  Ijoncs  ; 
and,  the  amenities  of  controversy  have  often  been 
conspicuous  only  for  their  vigour.  Luther  called 
Calvin  "  a  pig,"  and  bespattered  the  schoolmen  in 
general  with  such  epithets  as  "  frogs,"  "  lice," 
"  scorpions,"  "  snakes,"  etc.,  etc.  John  Milton  called 
the  learned  Salmasius  "  a  starving  rascal,"  "  a 
chattering  pye,"  on  the  ground,  I  suppose,  that  he,  a 
pensioner  under  a  republic,  should  dare  to  print  a 
defence  of  monarchy  ;  *  while  the  inspired  tinker  Avho 

*  Defeusio  Rerjla  pro  Carolo  I.  My  copy  is  dated  1653.  His  wife 
was  a  termagant,  so  that  he  "  caught  it  "  both  at  home  and  abroad. 
The  relative  merits  of  these  authors  are  summed  up  thus  by  Hobbes — ■ 
■■  They  write  good  latine  both,  and  hardly  to  be  judged  which  is  better  ; 
both  very  ill  reasoners  and  hardly  to  be  judged  which  is  worst — like 
the  declamations  pro  and  coji,  for  exercise  only,  in  a  rhetorical  school, 
by  one  and  the  same  man  :  so  like  is  a  Presbyterian  to  an  Independent." 
Salmasius's  treatise  was  -suppressed  at  Amsterdam,  wliilc  Milton's  was 
burned  by  the  hangman  at  Paris  and  Toulouse." 


126  OMNIANA 

gave  us  the  Pilgrims  Progress,  wx'iiiwg  of  the  Bishop 
of  Gloucester  and  his  creed,  hkcned  him  to  "  an  ape 
blowing  at  a  glow-worm  (the  Estabhshed  Church) 
Avhich  affords  neither  light  nor  warmth  " — a  ''  brutish 
man/'  "  a  clambering  thief,"  and  so  on.  The  ortho- 
dox assailants  of  Colenso  were  not  quite  so  brutal, 
though  they  were  equally  bitter ;  but  their  troubles 
did  not  end  with  those  who  beheved  too  little  ;  for 
they  had  to  contend  also  with  those  who  beheved  too 
much. 

Manning  and  Newman,  for  instance,  had  a  very 
important  following  to  be  reckoned  with  ;  and  their 
influence  and  the  tractarian  upheaval,  effected  a 
cleavage  in  the  ranks  of  orthodoxy,  into  which  the 
wedge  of  rationalism  has  been  firmly  janmied. 

I  recall  the  rashly  impulsive  onslaught  made  by 
that  most  unsubtle  and  honest-hearted  of  divines, 
Charles  Kingsley,  with  a  polemical  red-hot  poker, 
against  Newman  ;  but  his  weapon  was  no  match 
for  the  pohshed  rapier  play — the  carte  and  tierce 
of  his  opponent ;  and,  however  much  one  may  regret 
it  and  wish  the  result  had  been  otherwise,  one  must 
admit  that  he  came  off  second  best.  The  Apologia 
of  Newman  was  a  masterpiece.  Kingsley  was  out 
for  a  raid,  and  found  himself  suddenly  up  against 
subtleties — barbed  wire  sunk  fences,   and  the  like. 

Kome  had  reason  to  rejoice  over  Tract  90,  and 
the  Oxford  movement.  Speculative  unrest  troubled 
the  souls  of  many  who  longed  for  something  definite 


THE  BROTHERS  NEWMAN  127 

and  incontrovertible.  Tiiere  was  only  one  Church 
which  claimed  to  be  infallible  ;  and,  if  these  men 
were  satisfied  with  her  credentials,  there  was  no 
more  to  be  said.  This  was  what  Kingsley  failed  to 
see.  Obviously,  if  all  risk  of  falling  out  of  the 
theological  bed  is  to  be  avoided,  the  best  thing  to 
do  is  to  lie  on  the  floor.  Men  like  Newman  and 
Manning  had  been  hurting  themselves  terribly 
tumbhng  off  the  four-posters  of  their  youth  ;  and  they 
were  within  their  rights  in  preferring  the  floor.* 

But,  there  was  another  aspect  of  that  time  which 
deserves  passing  notice.  Dr.  Newman's  brother 
became  a  pronounced  sceptic,  pubhshed  a  very  able 
book  entitled  Phases  of  Faith  (which  appeared  in 
1870),  and  also  another,  The  Soul,  Its  Sorrows  and 
Aspirations.  They  were  replied  to  by  Professor 
Rogers  in  his  Eclijose  of  Faith ;  but  his  methods  of 
refutation  did  not  bring  conviction  home  to  the 
mind  of  the  general  pubhc.  He  created  tAvo 
imaginary  disputants — one  representing  F.  W.  New- 
man, and  the  other  himself ;  and  he  always,  in  his 
own  estimation,  triumphantly  refuted  his  opponent 
by  knocking  the  stuffing  out  of  the  lay  figure  which 

*  Here  I  am  reminded  of  an  incident  in  connexion  with  the  tem- 
porary derangement  of  a  worthy  gentleman,  Mr.  C ,  a  native  of  my 

owai  county,  who  came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  left  leg  had  '"  turned 
protestant."  He  refused  to  let  the  heretic  limb  under  the  bed  clothes, 
and  insisted  on  its  amputation.  The  surgeon,  however,  wisely  called 
in  the  priest,  who  succeeded  in  bringing  the  leg  back  to  the  true  faith, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  demented  man,  and  thereby  hastened  his 
recover^'. 


128  OMNIANA 

lie  litid  aat  up  and  kibelled  "  sceptic.''  But  Newman 
retorted  vigorously  ;  and  llogcrs  tared  no  better 
than  Kingsley. 

Before  parting  with  the  rector  of  E\'ersley,  1  must 
recall  an  incident  concerning  him.  1  read  with 
great  interest,  when  it  came  out,  in  1877,  Mrs.  Kings- 
ley's  Life  of   her  famous  husband  ;    and,  happening 

to  mention  the  book  to  the  wife  of  Dean  S ,  she 

expressed  a  wish  to  read  it.  I  said  I  would  lend  it 
with  the  greatest  of  pleasure  ;  and  specially  men- 
tioned a  beautiful  and  touching  letter  of  his  to  a 
sincere  atheist  friend,  hoping  and  believing  that  they 
would  meet  in  Heaven. 

"  An  atheist !  "  she  exclaimed  ;  '"  oh,  how  shock- 
ing !  Thank  you,  very  much  ;  but  I  don't  think  1 
should  care  to  read  the  book.'' 

The  idea  of  a  parson  being  on  friendly  terms 
with  an  atheist ;  and  that  parson  hoping  to  meet 
him  in  Heaven  ;  was  too  much  for  her  to  digest. 
She  didn't  want  any  black  sheep  of  that  description 
knocking  about  where  she  and  the  Dean  were  going, 
and  where  presumably  they  now  are. 

A  generation  ago,  when  the  influence  of  that 
noble-hearted  and  broad-minded  Divine,  the  Kev. 
Theodore  Parker,  was  at  its  height,  the  pastor  and 
congregation  of  a  dissenting  place  of  worship  offered 
up  a  prayer  supplicating  the  Almighty  to  terminate 
his  career — in  plain  language  asking  God  to  kill  him  I 

One  shudders  to  think  what,  in  the  middle  ages. 


MODERN   TOLERATION  12i9 

would  have  been  the  fate  of  Wilham  Greg  for  writing 
the  Creed  of  Christefidom,  or  of  the  author  of  Super- 
natural   Religion ;     of    Lyell,    of    Tyndal,    Huxley, 
Darwin,  and  a  host  of  others  of  our  own  time  ;    of 
Leshe    Stephen,    who    declared    that   creeds    "  only 
lived  till  they  were  found  out  "  ;    of  Buckle,  who 
says :     "  We   still    see   the   extraordinary   spectacle 
'  of  prayers  offered  up  in  our  churches  for  dry  weather 
'  or  wet  weather — a  superstition  which,  to  future  ages, 
'  will  appear  as  childish  as  the  feehngs  of  pious  awe 
'  with   which  our  forefathers  regarded  the  presence 
'  of  a  comet  or  the  approach  of  an  echpse  "  ;  of  Pro- 
fessor  Clifford,    who    says :    "  When   we    love    our 
'  brother  for  the  sake  of  our  brother,  we  help  all  men 
'  to  grow  in  the  right ;  but,  when  we  love  our  brother 
'  for  the  sake  of  somebody  else  who  is  very  hkely  to 
'  danm  our  brother,  it  very  soon  comes  to  burning 
'him  alive  for  his  soul's  health  "  ;    of  Lecky,  who 
writes  :    "  Geology  has   conclusively  disproved  what 
'  was  once  the  universal  behef ,  concerning  the  origin 
'  of  death.     It  has  proved  that,  countless  ages  before 
'  man  trod  this  earth,  death  raged  and  revelled  among 
'  its  occupants.     To  deny  this  is  now  impossible  :  to 
"'  admit  it  is  to  abandon  one  of  the  root-doctrines  of 
"  the  past."     All  these  men  are  emphatic  in  maintain- 
ing the  existence  of  the  "  reign  of  law  in  nature  "  ; 
and  Lecky  ridicules  the  idea  of  cholera,  for  instance, 
being    co 
method."' 


being    combated     "  according     to    the     theological 


K 


i30  OMNIANA 

This  mention  of  cholera  recalls  to  my  memory 
a  bomb  dropped  by  Palmerston  into  the  ranks  of 
the   Scotch   Presbyterians   which,   in   earUer   times, 
would  have  resulted  in  his  own  destruction.     The 
pestilence  made  its  appearance  in  Edinburgh  about 
1853  ;    and  the  Presbytery,  through  the  Moderator, 
called  upon  him  to  say  whether  it  was  his  intention, 
as    Home    Secretary,  to   recommend  the  Queen  to 
appoint  a  day  of   humihation,  fasting,  and  prayer, 
in  order  to  avert  the  consequences.     His  reply  was 
characteristic.     He   informed    the    clergy    that   the 
afiairs  of  this  world  were  regulated  by  natural  laws, 
and  that  "  the  weal  or  woe  of  mankind  depends 
upon  the  observance  or  neglect  of  those  laws."     He 
recommended  immediate  sanitary  reforms  ;    cleanh- 
ness  and  better  housing  and  feeding  of  the  poor  ; 
said  that  activity  in  these  directions  was  "  better 
than   fasting   and   humihation "  ;     winding   up   by 
remarking    that,    if    they    were    not    attended    to, 
"  pestilence  would  be  fruitful  in  death,  in  spite  of 
all  the  prayers  and  fastings  of  a  united  but  inactive 
nation."     Pam   gave    voice   to    what   probably   no 
other  member  of  the  Government  would  have  had 
the  temerity  to  utter. 

I  do  not  remember  a  fact  referred  to  by  Strauss,* 
when  the  English  Peers  reproached  Lord  John 
Russell  with  not  having  ordered  a  general  fast  against 
the  murrain  which  had  broken  out.     "  We  shall  at 

*  Translatiou  of  The  Old  Faith  and  the,  New,  by  Mathilde  Blind. 


PALMERSTON  131 

"  any  rate,"  he  says,  "  be  confirmed  in  the  wish  that, 
"  by  an  improved  education,  we  may  be  brought  to 
"  see  that  these  things  are  manifestations  of  nature 
"  subject  to  laws  as  stringent  as  the  eclipses  of  the 
"  sun  and  moon." 

But  Pam  was  not  afraid  to  hit  out  impartially. 
Some  time  in  these  same  fifties,  he  was  an  honoured 
guest  at  the  christening  feast  of  some  nobly  born 
baby.  The  ceremony  had  been  performed  by  a 
bishop,  supported  by  other  distinguished  clerics,  all 
of  whom  were  bidden  to  the  repast.  Palmerston 
had  to  make  a  short  speech,  which  he  did  in  a  strain 
calculated  to  rejoice  and  touch  the  heart  of  the  titled 
mother.  He  spoke  of  the  infant  born  into  this 
world  without  moral  spot  or  blemish,  in  perfect 
innocence  and  purity — ^in  fact,  there  and  then  re- 
pudiating the  doctrine  of  original  sin.  His  words,  of 
course,  when  reproduced  in  cold  print,  were  denounced 
by  the  Church  papers  and  by  Church  dignitaries  ; 
but  he  calmly  ignored  criticisms  and  let  the  storm 
rage  till  it  had  expended  itself.  The  Augsburg 
Profession  of  Faith  had  no  terrors  for  him.  He  was 
pre-eminently  a  man  of  humour  and  of  common- 
sense.  What  he  would  have  said  to  the  "  unco 
guid  "  people  of  Sweden  if  he  had  been  consulted 
may  be  imagined,  when  they  endeavoured  to  sup- 
press the  system  of  botany,  propounded  by  Linnseus, 
proving  the  existence  of  sexes  in  plants,  on  the 
plea    that  it  tended   to   infiame  the   minds  of   the 


132  OMNI  ANA 

young.*  And  lie  would  have  been  delighted  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  the  lady  whose  modesty  impelled 
her  to  segregate  the  contents  of  her  library  by 
separating  the  volumes  written  by  men  from  those 
written  by  women.  This  Avas  not  only  a  concession 
to  the  proprieties,  but  it  removed  all  suspicion  of 
undue  familiarity  between  the  books,  and  the  con- 
sequent risk  of  any  irregular  increase  in  their  number. 
It  may  safely  be  presumed  that  this  exemplary 
person  was  one  of  those  who  could  only  pursue  her 
devotions  in  a  place  of  worship  which  separates  the 
male  members  of  the  congregation  from  the  female. 
1  understand  there  arc  such  churches,  the  congrega- 
tions of  which  can,  doubtless,  advance  cogent  reasons 
for  their  peculiarities ;  and  defend  their  position 
as  involving  some  principle  to  which  they  attach 
importance.  In  judging  them,  nuich  depends  on 
perspective,  and  a  proper  sense  of  proportion  on  the 
part  of  the  sceptic  ;  whose  moral  squint,  so  to  speak, 
may  make  all  the  difference.  But  the  ethics  of  ritual 
is,  in  any  case,  too  large  and  abstruse  a  subject  for  a 
mere  superficialist  to  grapple  with.  I  leave  it  where 
I  found  it ;  and  pass  on  to  recall  a  parochial  incident 
which  is  not  altogether  irrelevant  as  illustrating  the 
wisdom  of  "  never  minding  "  in  dealing  with  such 
matters. 

An  old  gcuUcman,  Mr.  M ,  was  a  very  regular 

*  1   remember   how   puzzled   1    myself   was,   iu  early  youth,  by  a 
botanical  difficulty  iii  connexion  with  statuary. 


I  DISCUSS  A  PARISHIONER'S  CHARITY    133 

church-goer  in  my  parish,  and  did  his  best  to  give 
effect  to  the  notice  in  the  porch  requesting  "  the 
members  of  the  congregation  to  join  audibly  in  the 
responses."  His  voice  topped  all  others  ;  and  he 
had,  in  his  pew,  a  kneeling-stool  on  wheels,  which 
always  noisily  resented  being  moved  from  under 
the  seat  and  back  again.  At  the  beginning  of  the 
prayers  for  the  Queen  and  royal  family,  he  invariably 
jumped  of?  his  knees,  kicked  back  his  stool,  sat  bolt 
upright  on  his  seat,  with  arms  folded,  and  refused 
to  utter  the  responses.  When  these  prayers  were 
ended,  the  remonstrating  stool  was  kicked  out  again, 
and  he  dropped  on  his  knees,  and  resumed  his 
devotions.  This  programme  was  so  marked  that 
everybody  noticed  it,  and  strangers  turned  to  look 
at  him.  He  got  upon  my  nerves.  The  plain  inter- 
pretation of  liis  action  was  that  he  wished  the  Queen 
and  all  belonging  to  her  to  be  damned — that  is  if  he 
had  any  influence  with  the  Almighty.  I  asked 
myself  how  could  this  old  man  go  to  Communion, 
and  be  "  in  charity  with  all  men."  It  seemed  to 
me  a  horrible  mockery  ;  and,  how  the  rector  could 
admit  him  to  Communion  puzzled  me  exceedingly.  I 
attacked  the  reverend  gentleman — ^one  of  the  kindliest 
and  largest-hearted  of  parsons — about  it,  one  day. 

"  Canon,"  I  said,  "  it  amounts  to  a  grave  scandal 
to  see  a  whiteheaded  old  fellow  hke  that,  start  up, 
in  the  face  of  the  whole  congregation,  and  refuse  to 
pray  for  the  royal  family." 


134  OMNIANA 

"  It  is  very  unseemly,  I  admit,"  respoiKled  the 
Canon,  "  but — well,  you  see,  he  has  a  strong  con- 
scientious objection  to  do  so,  since  the  Queen  signed 
the  Act  for  the  disestabhshment  of  our  Church." 

"  But,"  I  said,  waxing  wroth,  "  how  in  Heaven's 
name  can  you — —  " 

He  took   me  up   short.     "  Oh  !   I   don't,   for  a 

moment,  pretend  to  justify  M ;    but,  you  must 

not  be  too  harsh  in  your  judgment,  my  dear  fellow. 
There  is  a  vast  difference  between  a  negative  and  a 
positive :  he  refrains  from  prayer,  he  does  not 
actually  pray  for  her  damnation." 

"  You  cannot,  surely,"  I  retorted,  ''  expect  any 
sane  Christian  to  accept  such  a  plea  as  satisfactory  ; 
it  is  a  very  poor  attempt  at  casuistry  on  the  part  of  a 
distinguished  cleric.  You  must  know  that  while 
he  kneels  at  the  Lord's  table,  he  has  rancorous  and 
unholy  feelings  in  his  heart  against  a  whole  family, 
while  he  professes  '  to  be  in  charity  with  all  men '  ; 
moreover,  in  my  own  case,  his  presence,  under  the 
circumstances,  reacts  injuriously  upon  me.  In  fact, 
I  cannot  stand  it." 

"  I'm  very  sorry,"  he  said  ;  "  but— really — well 
— what  can  I  do  ?  My  talking  to  him  has  had  no 
effect." 

I  was  angry.  ''  Surely,  then,"  I  said,  "  until  you 
luive  lu'ought  him  into  a  proper  state  of  mind,  you 
should  not  admit  him  to  Communion.  I  call  it 
double  deahng  with  Providence." 


DR.  CALAMYVS  VIEWS  135 

The  Canon  was  not  prepared  for  such  a  drastic 
step  as  this.  ''  Oh  !  tut !  tut !  tut  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
and  walked  away  highly  incensed. 

I  felt  that  there  was  something  comprehensively 
expressive  in  the  "  tut,  tut,  tut."     It  implied  danger  ; 
it  suggested  caution ;     it  deprecated   controversy  ; 
it  covered  the  rough  surface  on  which  we  trod  so  to 
speak,  with  a  Turkey  carpet,   and  said  in  effect, 
"  Pass  on  now — say  no  more  about  it."     Neverthe- 
less this  action  on  his  part  puzzled  and  worried  me 
for  a  time  :  till  I  came,  later  on,  to  understand  what 
is  really  meant  by  the  phrase   "  making  the   best 
of  both  worlds."     The  learned  Dr.  Calamy's  book 
entitled    Nonconformist    Memorials  has  a  place  in 
my   hbrary.     When  consulting  it  one  day  I  came 
upon  an  informing  passage.     King  James  the  Second 
was  in  the  toils  when   the  Doctor  wrote  :    "  While 
'  they  (the  clergy)  privately  prayed  for  the  Prince 
'  of  Orange's  prosperity,  they  were  forced,  in  public, 
'  to  pray,  according  to  the  liturgy,  that  God  would 
'  be  the  defender  and  keeper  of  King  James,  and 
'  give  him  victory  over  all  his  enemies.     But  God, 
'  to  the  unspeakable  comfort  of  the  nation,  preferred 
'  their  private  prayers  to  their  public  ones."     If  one 
had   questioned   the   ethics   of    this    position,   what 
more  effective  answer  could  be  given  by  the  dis- 
tinguished Divine  than  "  tut,  tut,  tut  "  ?     He  was, 
to   be   sure,  a  Nonconformist ;    but,  expediency  is 
a    common    factor — or    rather    a    bond   of    union 


136  OMNIANA 

among  all  existing  creeds.  Conformity  as  to 
dogma  is  too  much  to  hope  for  among  members  of 
the  cloth. 

The  only  clerical  optimist,  in  this  particular 
direction,  I  ever  came  across,  in  the  course  of  my 
desultory  reading,  was  the  Rev.  Cotton  Mather ; 
who  was  not  only  himself  a  Divine,  but  came  of 
generations  of  Divines.  In  one  of  his  books  he  tells 
of  "  a  gentleman  who  had  an  humour  of  making 
"  singidar  and  fanciful  expositions  of  Scripture ; 
"  but  one  Doctor  Sim  gave  him  a  dose  of  physic, 
"  which,  when  it  had  wrought,  the  gentleman  became 
"  orthodox  immediately."  Doctor  Sim,*  undoubtedly 
did  a  very  bad  turn  to  poor  humanity,  when  he  died 
without  making  his  prescription  public.  Only  to 
think  of  it !  Brothers  all !  No  more  disagree- 
ment !  The  odium  iheologicum  dead  and  buried  ! 
Take  a  case  in  point.  I  have  two  estimable  relatives, 
one  very  Evangelical,  the  other  very  High  Church. 
I  stand  between  them,  very  Broad  Church,  a  negligible 
<[uantity  having  no  influence  with  either — in  fact, 
if  the  truth  must  be  owned,  rather  despised  by  both. 

*  The  doctor  should  have  come  down  to  posterity  with  a  more 
famous  medicine-man.  Von  Hehnont,  who,  among  many  notable 
achievements,  compounded,  or  ])ropounded,  a  receipt  for  making 
fleas  (for  which,  however,  it  may  be  presumed  there  was  no  great 
demand) ;  and  he  would  have  utterly  eclipsed  Hobbes,  whose  work 
on  Ldberty  and  NecessUij  bore  the  comprehensive  sub-title,  wherein 
nil  controversij  concerning  Predestination,  Election,  Freewill,  Qrace, 
Merits,  Reprobation,  etc.,  etc.,  is  fully  decided  and  cleared — a  "  tall 
order  "  which  remains  as  far  off  as  ever. 


PRESCRIPTION  BY  DR.  SIM  137 

The  first  pins  his  faith  on  the  Reformation  ;  for 
without  it,  we  should  still  be  believing  in  the  doctrine 
of  the  Mass,  the  Pope's  infallibility,  the  Virgin  Mary, 
and  ever  so  many  dreadful  things  besides,  which  I 
need  not  enumerate.  The  other  denounces  the 
Reformation  as  an  unmitigated  evil,  and  as  having 
pushed  us  off  the  sohd  rock  of  St.  Peter  and  landed 
us  in  a  quagmire  ;  and  he  points  to  the  thousand 
and  one  different  creeds  which  it  has  engendered, 
each  fighting  its  own  corner.  Both  men  are  devout 
believers  in  "  the  God  of  our  fathers  "  ;  both  aspire 
to  Heaven ;  but  neither  can  satisfactorily  explain 
why  the  Almighty  should  want  to  spend  for  ever 
and  ever  with  uncountable  myriads  of  the  human 
race  at  all.  If  this  prescription  by  Doctor  Sim 
were  only  available,  it  would  put  an  end  to  such 
speculative  doubt.  Lacking  it,  there  will  appear 
to  other  minds  a  higher  and  nobler  conception  of 
Godhead  and  of  immortahty  ;  but  then  it  is  not 
an  orthodox  one,  though  to  these  other  minds,  it 
may  appear  sufficient.  Evidently,  the  great  Dean 
of  St.  Patrick's,  under  Doctor  Sim's  treatment, 
would  have  hesitated  when  he  wrote :  "  Who  that 
"  sees  a  paltry  mortal  droning  and  dreaming  and 
*'  drivelhng,  can  think  it  agreeable  to  common  sense 
"  that  either  Heaven  or  Hell  should  be  put  to  the 
"  trouble  of  influencing  him,  or  of  inspection  of  what 
'*  he  is  about  ?  " — a  pronouncement  which  brings 
the  Dean  into  perilous  proximity  to  Tom  Paine,  who 


138  OMNI  ANA 

says  :  "  There  is  a  sort  ot  men  who  are  so  very 
"  insignificant,  botli  in  character  and  conduct,  as 
"  not  to  be  worth  the  trouble  of  damning  or  saving, 
"  or  of  raising  from  the  dead.  My  own  opinion  is 
"  that  those  whose  hves  have  been  spent  in  doing 
"  good  and  endeavouring  to  make  their  fellow- 
"  creatures  happy  will  be  happy  hereafter  ;  and  that 
"  the  very  wicked  will  meet  with  punishment.  But 
"  those  who  are  neither  good,  nor  bad,  or  are  too 
"  insignificant  for  notice,  will  be  dropped  entirely." 
Tliis  reads  like  a  forecast  of  the  Darwinian  theory 
of  "  natural  selection "  and  the  survival  of  the 
'■'  fittest,"  as  apphed  to  speculative  theology  ;  but, 
the  last  sentence  presents  difficulties  in  determining 
the  fate  of  those  not  wholly  good  or  wholly  bad, 
or  who  might  or  might  not  be  wholly  insignificant. 
Paine  does  not  tell  us  under  which  class  he  would 
definitely  place  himself ;  but  his  "  confession  of  faith  " 
deserves  to  be  recorded  :  "I  believe  in  one  God 
"  and  no  more  ;  and  /  Jwpefor  hafpiness  beyond  this 
"  life.  I  believe  in  the  ecjuality  of  man  ;  and  I 
"  believe  that  rehgious  duties  consist  in  doing  justice, 
"  loving  mercy,  and  endeavouring  to  make  our 
"  fellow-creatures  happy."  Tom  Paine,  as  we  know, 
was  an  arch-heretic  ;  and  this  "  confession  of  faith  " 
falls  far  short  of  the  requirements  of  the  Schoolmen  ; 
but,  it  could  not  be  charged  to  the  account  of  the 
Reformation :  it  has  a  pedigree  going  back  to 
paganism,  and  has  by  no  means  been  relegated  to 


THE   ADAMITES  139 

the  limbo  oC  obsolete  controversy.  His  words 
above  quoted  might  be  taken  as  almost  a  literal 
translation  from  Spinoza's  Tractatus  Theologica- 
PolUicus. 


HERESIES,  by-the-bye,  are  an  entertaining 
study.  I  recall  to  memory  the  exponent  of 
one  of  them,  a  reverend  gentleman  whom  I 
knew  personally,  but  whose  identity  I  will  not  indi- 
cate even  by  initials.  He  was  at  times  "  of?  his 
head "  ;  and  I  was  credibly  informed  that  one 
Sunday  he  emerged  from  the  vestry  and  entered  his 
pulpit,  posing  as  Adam,  in  a  state  of  nature,  to  deliver 
a  sermon  on  the  first  man  and  the  garden  of  Eden. 
The  scene  may  be  imagined.  Two  members  of  the 
constabulary  who  were  present  "  went "  for  him  ; 
and,  after  an  exciting  chase  round  the  churchyard, 
succeeded  in  capturing  and  retaining  him,  in  the 
vestry,  till  his  paroxysm  had  passed  :  and  he  then 
departed  quietly  with  his  relatives,  clothed  and  in 
his  right  mind.  The  Adamites  were,  at  one  time, 
a  flourishing  sect.  In  a  curious  old  book  entitled 
A  View  of  all  Religions  of  the  World  from  the  Creation 
till  these  Times, ^  by  Alexander  Ross,  chaplain  to 
Charles  the  First,  I  find  under  the  heading  Sects 

*  The  first  edition  appeared  in  1652.    Mine  is  the  sixth. 


140  OMNIANA 

sfrung  oiit  of  Lutheranism ,  "  Adamites,  so  called  ; 
"  they  used  to  be  naked  in  their  conventicles,  after 
"  the  example  of  Adam  and  Eve  in  Paradise.  And, 
"  therefore,  when  they  marry,  they  stand  under  a 
"  tree  naked  ;  they  are  admitted  as  brethren  and 
"  sisters,  who  can,  without  lust,  look  upon  each 
"  other's  nakedness  ;  but,  if  they  cannot,  they  arc 
"  rejected."  There  was  a  spasmodic  revival  of  this 
belief  in  London  in  1763.  One  Bell,  a  Lifeguards- 
man,  held  forth  to  an  assembly,  near  Hanover  Square. 
His  delusions  spread.  "  His  followers,"  says  the 
Magazine  from  which  I  quote,  "  think  themselves 
perfect.  God  only  know^s  where  this  folly  will  end. 
Many  declare  that,  as  clothes  came  only  in  conse- 
quence of  sin,  so  they  being  free  from  it,  are  to  wear 
none."  Probably  the  authorities  objected  to  the 
naked  truth,  as  there  is  no  subsequent  mention  of 
Bell  and  his  followers.  But  the  cult  spread  to 
Dublin.  Exhaw^'s  Magazine  says,  "  From  what  has 
happened  here  lately  one  would  be  led  to  imagine 
that  the  heretical  sect  called  Adamites  going  about 
naked,  was  revived  heie.  Last  Saturday  morning 
about  2  ock,  a  number  of  persons  supposed  to  be 
about  twenty,  a  great  part  of  whom  were  stark  naked, 
proceeded  through  the  streets,  when  the  watch  of 
St.  Peter's  parish  reinforced  by  a  party  from  St. 
Bridget's  attacked  them  in  front  and  rear.  The 
result  was  a  riot  in  which  many  were  wounded,  and 
a  watchman  named  John  Spring  had  his  right  arm 


REV.   ALEXANDER  ROSS  141 

broken  and  had  to  be  sent  to  the  Inns  Quay 
Infirmary.* '  Evidently  the  authorities  here  triumphed, 
as  there  is  no  further  allusion  to  the  matter.  The 
cold  month  of  January  was  chosen,  in  both  cities, 
for  this  nude  display  of  rehgious  fervour. 

Alexander  Ross'  own  views  on  the  Church  are 
vigorously  expressed  in  his  preface : — "  She  is  as 
"  our  Saviour  was,  placed  between  two  Thieves  : 
"  to  wit,  Superstition  on  the  right  hand,  and  Atheism 
"  on  the  left.  But,  let  men  esteem  her  as  they  Hst, 
"  she  is,  notwithstanding,  the  fair  daughter  of  the 
"  Almighty.  Religion  is  the  sacred  anchor  by  which 
"  the  Great  Ship  of  the  State  is  held  fast,  that  she 
"  may  not  be  spht  upon  the  quicksands  of  popular 
"  tumults,  or  the  rocks  of  Sedition.  Rehgion  is  the 
"  pillar  on  which  the  great  fabrick  of  the  Microcosm 
"  standeth.  Without  Rehgion  no  humane  Society 
"  could  be  durable,  without  the  knowledge  and 
"  fear  of  a  Deity,  which  all  Nations  do  Reverence 
"  and  Worship,  though  they  agree  not  in  the  manner 
*'  of  their  worship." 

These  are  eloquent  words  spoken  by  this  old 
Divine  ;  and  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  Christianity 
has  victoriously  withstood  the  shocks  of  the  enemy 
for  nigh  two  thousand  years.  The  good  ship  still 
holds  her  own  ;  and  amid  the  sea  of  doubt,  strewn 
with  mines,  and  harassed  by  big  and  little  craft, 
ironclads  and  submarines,  not  to  mention  bomb- 
diopping   aeroplanes,    she   has    fought    a    big   and 


142  OMNI  ANA 

glorious  tight.  She  has  been  splendidly  manned, 
and  heroically  defended.  Her  amazing  superhuman 
vitality  as  a  belligerent,  seems  to  indicate  that  Hume's 
argument  against  miracles  is,  as  yet,  inconclusive. 

But  the  polemics  of  theology  have  detained  me  too 
long.  The  pursuit  of  them  is  fascinating,  if  always 
inconclusive.  One  gets  no  answer  from  the  oracles. 
Nevertheless,  we  may  profit,  even  as  Diogenes  did, 
when  he  tried  to  out-voice  the  sea,  or  speechified  to 
the  irresponsive  statues ;  eloquently  begging,  en- 
treating, and  supplicating,  in  vain  ;  "  yet  so  that," 
as  the  Rev.  and  "  ever  memorable  Mr.  John  Hales  " 
puts  it,  "  he  might  learn  to  brook  denial  and  tedious- 
"ness  of  suit.  For  since  the  Gospel  was  committed 
"  to  writing,  what  age  is  not  full  of  debate  and  strife, 
"  concerning  the  force  and  meaning  of  those  writings 
"  which  hath  been  left  us  to  be  the  law  and  rule  of 
"  faith  ?  "  *  But,  it  is  enough  for  us  to  know  that  the 
future  of  mankind  is  not  bounded  by  Christianity 
nor  circumscribed  by  German  "  culture."  Neither 
Divines  nor  Doctrinaires  can  aid  us  much  as  pioneers 
on  the  way  to  the 

"  undiscovered  couiitx-y 
From  which  no  traveller  returns." 

Our  safest  passport  to  Eternity  is  a  clean  record, 
and  a  Ufe  of  usefulness  and  helpful  effort  here.  Let 
us  see  to  it  that  we  do  not  come  into  the  category  of 

*  The  Golden  Remains  of  the  Ever  Memorable  Mr.  John  Hales. 
London,  1763.  Ho  was  professor  of  Greek  at  Oxford,  Fellow  of  Eton, 
and  Prebendary  of  Windsor. 


LITERARY  REMINISCENCES  143 

those  '*  so  insignificant  as  not  to  be  wortli  the  trouble 
of  damning  or  saving,  or  of  raising  from  the  dead/' 
There  should  be  no  waste  of  time  over  dogma,  for 
there  is  no  time  to  waste. 

"  Vain  are  the  thousand  creeds, 
That  move  men's  hearts— unutterably  vam  ; 
Worthless  as  withered  leaves. 
Or  idlest  froth  upon  the  boundless  main."  * 

The  cult  of  mere  negation  is  not  inspiriting  ;  and 
the  extent,  as  the  late  Samuel  Butler  puts  it,  "  of 
our  utmost  seeing  is  but  a  fumbling  of  bhnd  finger- 
ends  in  an  over-crowded  pocket."  Nevertheless, 
the  Schoolmen  will  contend,  to  the  bitter  end,  on 
points  of  doctrine  which  are  futile  and  unprofitable, 
while  Humanity  has  got  to  worry  along  towards 
betterment  and  universal  brotherhood.  The  way  is 
long,  and  strewn  with  difficulties.  The  Millennium  of 
the  rationahst  means  toleration  for  all  creeds  not  them- 
selves intolerant — a  consummation  to  the  optimist 
still  very  remote,  to  the  pessimist  quite  unattainable, 
and  to  the  dogmatist  absolutely  unthinkable. 


AND  now  to  fulfil  the  promise  made  at  page  75. 
My  literary  reminiscences  go  back  to  a  pre- 
sentation   copy  of    Underglim'pses,  in  1857, 
from  the  author,  Denis  Florence  McCarthy.     He  was 

*  Emily  Bronte. 


144  OMNIANA 

a  cliarniing  writer ;  and,  1  always,  in  memory, 
associate  an  exquisite  lyric  of  his,  beginning — 

■'  Ah  !   my  heart  is  weary  waiting — 
Waiting  for  the  May," 

with  an  equally  perfect  one  by  Monckton  Milnes — 

"  I  wandered  by  the  brook  side, 
I  wandered  by  the  mill." 

Both  men,  now,  have  come  to  be  classed  with  the 
minor  poets :  but  McCarthy  will  be  always  re- 
membered for  his  scholarly  translations  of  Calderon. 
I  remember  a  capital  story  which  he  used  to  tell 
with  great  glee.  His  contemporary,  James  J. 
McCarthy,  of  a  different  family,  was  then  leading 
Church  architect  in  Dubhn.  One  of  the  "  civic 
fathers  "  asked  the  poet,  one  day,  whether  they  were 
not  related,  who  rephed— 

"  Don't  you  know  that  Jem  an  I  are  twins  ?  " 

"  Well,  that's  extraordinary,"  said  the  Alderman. 
"  1  didn't  think  you  were  so  near  as  that.  Why, 
you  aren't  one  bit  like  one  another  !  " 

This  must  have  been  the  same  Alderman  who, 
meeting  a  brother  chip,  just  returned  from  a  Conti- 
nental trip,  and  being  greatly  interested  in  hearing 
of  the  beautiful  black  "  swans  of  Venice  " — the 
gondolas — ghding  gracefully  over  the  waters  of  the 
city,  etc.,  etc.,  exclaimed — 

"  Begorra,  Pat — shure,  I  thought  they  were 
ahvays  white  ;  we  inust  get  a  pair  of  'em  over  here 
to  breed  from,  in  the  Zoo  !  " 


LITERARY   REMINISCENCES  145 

But,  before  I  introduce  any  other  literary 
celebrities,  it  would,  perhaps,  be  better  if  I  were  to 
make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  and  relate  my  own  ex- 
periences, and  my  efiorts  to  obtain  a  hearing  as  an 
author.  There  is  a  wide-spread  behef  that  great 
difficulties  always  beset  the  "  youthful  aspirant  to 
literary  fame  "  ;  and  that  many  rebuffs  and  rejections 
follow  his  apphcations  to  editors.  My  experience 
has  been  diiectly  the  reverse.  Perhaps  the  "  rule 
of  contrary  "  explains  my  case.  I  was  not  an  aspirant 
for  literary  fame,  and  obviously  never  achieved  it. 
I  had  not  the  smallest  ambition  in  that  way  ;  but, 
nevertheless,  I  was  uniformly  successful  in  gaining 
the  editorial  ear. 

I  began  to  write  for  amusement  when  an  articled 

pupil  in  the  office  of  Mr.  P ,  and  finding  that  the 

occupation  brought  in  stray  sovereigns,  I  pursued 
it.  Though  my  first  effort,  however,  as  I  related  at 
page  74,  was  barren  in  a  pecuniary  sense,  my  sub- 
sequent efforts  were  not.  The  results  came  as  a 
surprise. 

In  the  early  days  of  my  pupilage,  the  "  Royal 
Institute  of  Architects "  ruled  the  roost.  Its 
executive  was  composed  of  distinguished  old  men 
whose  cult  was  Classic  architecture,  which  they 
declared  to  be  the  only  style  possessing  dignity  and 
grace  enough  for  public  buildings  of  a  monumental 
character.  The  officially  recognised  exponent  of 
these  views,  in  the  press,  was  The  Builder,  edited  by 


146  OMNIANA 

an  architect  named  Godwin,  which  then  held  the  field, 
and  still  flourishes.  The  young  "  bloods ''  of  the 
profession,  fired  by  enthusiasm  for  Gothic  art,  and 
inspired  by  the  pen  and  pencil  of  the  great  Welby 
Pugin,  revolted  ;  and  had  the  audacity  to  form  the 
"  Architectural  Association,"'  which  rapidly  became 
a  success  and  counter-irritant.  The  need  for  a  weekly 
paper  of  their  own  arose  ;  and  the  Building  News 
soon  made  its  appearance,  edited  by  an  energetic 
httle  man  named  Tode.  It,  too,  still  flourishes. 
The  situation  seemed  an  inviting  one  for  my  first 
literary  effort ;  and  I  wrote  a  strong  article  in  the 
interests  of  the  Gothic  revival,  which  I  dropped  into 
Tode's  letterbox.  It  appeared  in  the  next  issue  of 
his  paper,  and  was  followed  by  a  cheque  for  a  guinea. 
This  whetted  my  appetite  ;  and,  it  struck  me  that 
a  second  article  refuting  the  first  would  be  acceptable 
to  Mr.  Godwin — and  so  it  proved.  I  netted  another 
guinea  ;  and,  having  fired  two  shots,  I  fired  a  third 
in  support  of  the  first ;  then  having  fairly  started 
a  fight  I  left  the  issue  in  abler  hands — to  be  continued 
even  down  to  the  present  time  ;  for  it  is  still  undeter- 
mined. These  three  guineas  represented  my  first 
earnings,  and  gave  me  greater  pleasure  than  any 
subsequent  money-getting ;  and  a  taste,  not  for 
literary  fame,  but  for  filthy  lucre  ;  which  there  was 
joy  in  spending  as  soon  as  gotten. 

My   subsequent    experiences   with    editors    were 
many  and  various,  and  remunerative  also  ;    but,  it 


LITERARY   REMINISCENCES  147 

would  be  tedious  to   record    them  all,  even  if   my 
memory  were  equal  to  the  task.     I  recall  a  few. 

As  I  advanced,  I  gained  confidence  enough  even 
to  "  cheek  "  an  editor.  A  humorous  Irish  story  was 
sent  by  me  to  an  illustrated  monthly  magazine 
(which  shall  be  nameless),  and  accepted.  I  was 
asked  to  state  a  price,  which  I  did  (not  knowing  that 
the  scale  was  much  higher  for  magazine  than  news- 
paper work),  at  five  pounds.  After  waiting,  in 
suspense,  for  two  months,  I  waxed  unreasonably 
impatient,  and  wrote  to  the  editor.  He,  of  course, 
knew  by  the  price  demanded  that  I  was  a  mere  tiro  ; 
and  promptly,  and  tartly,  replied  that  I  should  have 
to  wait  his  convenience.  This  got  my  back  up  ; 
and  I  demanded  the  instant  return  of  my  manuscript ; 
as  I  was  not  prepared  to  put  up  with  his,  or  any  other 
editor's  impudence — this  was  the  purport  of  what  I 
said,  though  not  so  crudely  put.  In  response,  I  got 
a  cheque,  with  a  curt  statement  that  the  "  contri- 
bution will  appear  in  our  next  issue."  The  delay 
was  evidently  caused  by  the  artist,  who  would  have 
had  to  be  paid,  even  if  the  manuscript  had  been 
withdrawn.  This  did  not  strike  me  at  ths  moment, 
or  I  might  not  have  condoned  the  editor's  incivihty 
without  an  advance  on  the  five  pounds — which  would 
have  been  a  mean  advantage  to  take,  I  admit.  I 
had,  in  fact,  "  cornered  "  him  without  knowing  it. 

An   illustrated   weekly,    about   the    same   time, 
accepted  a  short  (Irish)  contribution,  and  sent  me 


148  OMNIANA 

the  usual  guinea  with  the  flattering  statement  that 
the  editor  would  reserve  the  same  space  for  me,  at 
the  same  figure,  if  I  cared  to  become  a  constant 
contributor.  In  response,  I  wrote  for  three  con- 
secutive weeks,  and  then  gave  him  up  ;  being  tied 
to  a  regular  output  didn't  suit  my  volatile  dis- 
position. 

In  the  early  fifties  there  issued  from  the  house  of 
Bradbury,  Agnew  &  Co.,  the  first  number  of  an 
illustrated  periodical  called  Once  a  Week,  that  created 
an  immense  amount  of  interest,  was  an  immediate 
success,  and  ran  for  many  years.  It  was  sold  at  the 
then  highly  experimental  price  of  threepence.  The 
first  number  had,  among  many  other  contributors, 
Charles  Reade,  George  Meredith,  Tom  Taylor,  W. 
Bridges  Adams,  Shirley  Brooks,  George  W.  Dasent, 
G.  H.  Lewes,  etc.,  etc.,  all  of  whom  have  secured 
permanent  recognition  in  the  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography.  The  artists  were  equally  famous : 
Millais,  John  Leech,  Charles  Keene,  Tenniel.  I  tried 
my  luck  with  a  short  humorous  poem.  It  appeared 
in  due  course  with  an  illustration  by  Leech.  Another 
which  I  sent  later  on,  also  appeared,  illustrated  by 
Luard.  I  was  in  Manchester  just  then,  and  sent  a 
more  ambitious  production  to  a  local  paper.  It 
came  out  with  a  note  that  it  was  from  the  pen  of  one 
of  the  contributors  to  Once  a  Week — which  was  added 
without  my  knowledge.  This  poem  attained  the 
dignity  of  recital  by  a  local  amateur,  at  a  literary 


LITERARY  REMINISCENCES  149 

entertainment — also     without     my     knowledge     or 
consent. 

Some  years  later  the  Oxford  University  Magazine 
entitled  Dark  Blue  was  launched,  supported  by  any 
number  of  celebrated  writers,  Dowden,  Swinburne, 
Maha%,  Rossetti,  Andrew  Lang,  Morris,  Mallock, 
Eangsley,  Calverley,  Graves,  Lynn  Linton,  and  many 
others  "  too  numerous  to  mention."  As  one  is 
said  to  be  known  by  one's  company,  I  thought  it 
would  be  well  to  try  my  luck  again  ;  and  as  a  result 
I  found  myself  occupying  about  a  dozen  pages  in 
Volume  2.  The  editor  asked  for  more ;  and,  in 
response  I  contributed  sixteen  pages  to  Volume  3. 

Somewhere  about  this  time  Henry  Labouchere 
issued  an  invitation  to  the  readers  of  Truth  to  com- 
pete for  a  sequel  to  Poe's  poem  of  The  Raven.  I 
competed  and  scored.  A  friend  has  lately  unearthed 
this  production,  and  sent  it  to  me.  As  it  does  not 
appear  to  be  "  half  bad  "  I  venture  to  reproduce  it. 

Certes,  said  I,  with  decision— as  if  holding  in  derision 
Any  sinister  forebodings  which  I  may  have  held  before  ; 

This  is  but  a  quaint  delusion,  a  mere  fanciful  illusion  ; 

I  have  come  to  the  conclusion — it  is  simply  nothing  more  ; 

Some  weak  mental  aberration  one  should  manfully  ignore. 

As  I've  often  done  of  j^ore. 

Presently  my  nerve  grew  stronger,  I  could  bear  it,  then  no  longer — • 
"  Be  the  outcome  good  or  evil,  you  must  die,"'  I  inly  swore. 

For  the  night  was  wild  and  dreary,  and  the  incident  was  eerie  ; 
My  spirit,  too,  was  wean*'  of  this  iterative  bore — 
Of  this  strangely  vague,  imcanny,  black,  and  singlywordcd  bore. 
Perched  above  my  chamber  door. 


150  OMNIANA 

Whether  mind,  or  only  matter,  I  resolved  to  stop  its  chatter. 

And  I  asked  it  to  foregather  on  the  heart lu'ug — not  the  door. 
On  a  sudden,  downward  dropinng,  with  its  draggled  i>inions  flopping, 
And  a  sidelong  sort  of  hopping,  it  approached  me  on  the  floor — 
Stood  and  -winked  and  scratched  an  eyelid,  by  the  firelight  on  the 
floor — 

Winked  and  scratched,  and  nothmg  more. 

"  I"m  imcertam  as  to  gender.     Pray,  be  seated,  on  the  fender. 
Trust  me,"  said  I,  "  sir  or  tnadam,  I  will  question  you  no  more." 

Deftly,  then,  I  brought  the  poker  down  U])on  the  demon  croaker — 
Stretched  the  weird  and  fiendish  joker  dead  upon  my  study  floor- 
Danced  about  his  battered  carcase,  revelled  in  his  gruesome  gore- 
Stamped  and  shouted,  "  Nevermore  ?  " 


WITHOUT  going  into  any  further  detail,  these 
facts  will  sufficiently  show  that,  as  far  as 
my  contributions  to  periodical  hterature 
were  concerned,  I  was  a  happy-go-lucky  sort  of 
chap,  who  earned  stray  guineas  without  much  effort ; 
but  when  I  returned  to  Ireland,  and  was  a  busy 
professional  man,  I,  in  the  intervals  of  business, 
perpetrated  a  first  novel.  And,  having  heard  how 
an  old  gentleman  who  was  "  reader  "  for  Smith  & 
Elder,  recommended  the  acceptance  of  Jane  Eyre, 
after  other  publishing  houses  in  London  had  rejected 
it,  of  course  it  was  ULanifest  to  me  that  he  was  the 
one  man  on  whose  judgment  I  might  rely  for  due 
appreciation  at  first  hand.  The  manuscript  came 
back     to    me,    with     a    very    long    and    flattering 


FACSBin-R   OF   JAMES   PAYN'S   nA>rDWEITING. 


I'hulo:   W.  <£■  I).  Downey. 


JAMES   I'AYN. 


MY   FIEST  BOOK  151 

letter ;  but  recomniendiiig  changes  which  iiieaub 
practically  rc-casting  the  book — in  other  words,  a 
lot  of  labour  which  I  didn't  care  to  incur  ;  so  I  tried 
another  publisher,  Macmillan,  who  introduced  me, 
anonymously,  to  the  pubhc.  The  book  was  entitled 
Cuhmldre  Folk ;  and  I  remember  with  what  care 
I  corrected  the  first  instalment  of  "  proofs,"  par- 
ticularly with  regard  to  the  punctuation  ;  and  how 
with  the  "  revise  "  sheets  I  received  a  letter  from  the 
pubhsher  to  say  that,  if  I  was  not  more  sparing  in 
this  respect,  "  the  printers  would  have  to  get  in  an 
extra  supply  of  commas  and  semi-colons."  This 
tickled  my  sense  of  the  humorous  ;  but,  I  took  the 
hint  nevertheless.  Probably  ninety-nine  per  cent, 
of  my  present  readers  (presuming  that  1  obtain  a 
hundred)  will  not  have  heard  of  the  book  before 
now^ ;  but  the  reviews  of  it  were  most  extraordinarily 
favourable.  I  give  extracts  from  some  of  these  in 
Appendix  (B).  They  can  be  skipped  by  the  general 
reader,  but  may  interest  some  descendant  or  other. 
The  first  edition  was  in  three  volumes,  the  second 
and  third  in  one  volume — the  last  brought  out  by 
Cassell  &  Co. 

Through  the  publishers,  I  received  a  flattering 
and  kindly  letter  from  the  novelist  James  Payii, 
whose  books  were  very  popular  in  the  fifties  ;  one 
of  the  best  being  Lost  Sir  Massingberd,  which  G.  H. 
Lewes  declared — taking  into  account  its  denouement 
— should  have  been  entitled  Found  Sir  Missing  bird. 


152  OMNI  AN  A 

Payn  was  tlien  editor  of  tlic  Cornhill  Mugazliie  ;  and 
we  corresponded,  in  reference  to  my  submitting  a 
serial  story  for  his  consideration  ;  but  I  did  not  do  so, 
as  I  thought  liis  doubts  had  something  in  them. 
Any  merits  which  my  book  could  claim  consisted  in 
character  drawing,  not  iir  plot.  I  was  warned  by 
a  mutual  acquaintance  that  he  had  one  small  weak- 
ness :  he  resented  his  name  being  spelled  with  an 
"  e."  When  our  correspondence  was  drawing  to  a  close 
I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  test  this  point : 
and  in  his  last  letter,  which  I  still  possess,  he  plain- 
tively says — "  I  did  not  deserve  your  speUing  my 
name  with  an  '  e.' "'  On  receipt  of  it  I  must  acknow- 
ledge that  1  felt  a  bit  small- — his  reproof  was  so 
dignified  ;  and,  after  all,  no  one  really  likes  his  name 
tampered  with. 

Another  very  kindly  and  disinterested  letter  was 
from  Grant  Allen  ;  and  a  third  was  fr'om  Mrs.  Lynn 
Linton,  who  was  then  at  the  height  of  her  fame. 
This  latter  led  to  a  warm  friendship,  w^hich  culminated 
in  a  month's  visit  to  Glashnacree,  a  detailed  account 
of  which  is  given  in  the  "  Life  "  of  her,  written  by 
G.  S.  Layard,  and  also  by  herself  in  a  series  of  articles 
contributed  at  the  time  to  the  columns  of  the  Queen. 
Hers  was  a  strenuous  soul,  and  she  was  a  hard  and 
very  methodical  worker.  The  daughter  of  a  clergy- 
man and  granddaughter  of  a  bishop,  she  early  left 
the  paternal  roof,  and  went  to  London — a  pronounced 
agnostic' — to  fight  the  battle  of  life,  which  she  did 


5- 


_^AVi^ 


5?i 


FACSIMILE   OP  MRS.    LYNN  LINTON  S   HANDWRITINO. 


MRS.    LYNN   LINTON. 
(From  a  portrait  by  the  Hon.  John  Collier.) 


MRS.   LYNN   LINTON  153 

triumphantly.  She  made  mistakes,  of  course  ;  one 
of  the  worst  being  her  marriage  to  W.  J.  Linton,  the 
wood  engraver,  poet,  pohtical  and  social  pamphleteer. 
a  reformer  of  sorts,  and  a  great  friend  of  Mazzini. 
The  man  was  clever,  but  mentally  unkempt — an 
intellectual  wastrel — and,  to  her,  utterly  anti- 
pathetic. They  ultimately  separated  by  mutual 
agreement.  He  went  to  America  ;  and,  for  years, 
they  kept  up  a  friendly  correspondence,  which  on 
her  side  meant  generous  pecuniary  assistance.  Thc}^ 
died  within  six  months  of  each  other.  In  1889  he 
paid  a  visit  to  London  ;  but  both  agreed  that  it 
was  better  not  to  meet. 

Not  only  her  own  experience,  but  that  which 
she  saw  happening  every  day,  in  society,  led  her  to 
form  and  express  strong  views  on  the  marriage  laws, 
and  on  divorce,  the  relation  of  the  sexes,  and  the 
attitude  of  the  Churches  on  these  subjects.  Nothing 
she  said  or  wrote  was  anything  like  as  strong  or 
heretical  or  vituperative  as  what  John  Milton  had 
given  to  the  world  in  his  Doctrine  and  Discifline  of 
Divorce,  but  she  was  a  woman,  and  that  made  all 
the  difference.  Her  contention  was  that  marriage 
should  be  a  civil  contract,  wdth  a  clause  of  renewal 
every  five,  seven,  or  fourteen  years. 

The  idea  suggested  difficulties  with  regard  to  off- 
spring, but  none  which  able  lawyers,  acting  for  the 
State,  could  not  surmount.  George  Meredith  held 
similar  views.     She  was  of  course  famihar  with  Plato's 


154  OMNIANA 

Rcpiddlc  advocating  a  community  of  wives  (of  wliicli 
she  did  not  approve)  with  provision  for  the  children 
by  the  State  ;  and  Lycurgus  was  a  law-giver  whom 
she  was  not  afraid  to  defend.  As  for  the  sanctity 
of  a  Church  marriage,  she  attached  no  weight  to  it. 
Many  go  througli  the  ceremony,  she  maintained,  not 
because  of  any  spiritual  virtue  in  it,  or  any  doctrinal 
importance  which  it  possesses,  but  simply  because, 
as  the  law^  stands,  they  do  not  wish  their  prospective 
offspring  to  be  penalised  as  ''  natural  "  children,  and 
deprived  of  legal  and  social  status,  as  illegitimates. 
She  could  understand  the  Church  "fighting its  corner," 
but  what  she  could  not  understand  was  the  priestly 
dogmatism  which  teaches  a  man  who  has  married, 
and  can't  get  away  from  an  antagonistic  wife,  to  look 
upon  himself  as  morally  superior  to  an  unmarried 
man  who  lives  all  his  life  with,  and  remains  true  to 
a  woman  whom  he  might  desert  if  he  would — nay, 
further,  whom  his  pastor  exhorts  him,  as  a  rehgious 
duty,  to  desert.  The  necessity  for  an  explanatory 
declaration  in  the  prayer-book,  as  to  the  purpose  of 
matrimony — since  it  is  addressed  to  adults — did 
not  seem  clear  to  her  ;  while  its  recital  nmst  be, 
she  thought,  embarrassing  to  others  besides  the 
celebrant,  when,  in  some  cases,  it  appears  doubtful 
of  fulfilment ;  and,  in  others,  impossible  wdthout 
the  miraculous  intervention  of  the  Deity  recorded 
in  that  of  Ehsabeth,  "  well  stricken  in  years." 

She  Avas  always  at  war  with  sacerdotalism,  and 


LECKY  155 

with  the  modern  school  of  inascuhue  women.  Her 
best  novel  is,  to  my  mind,  Under  ivhich  Lord,  though 
several  others  run  it  close.     She  died  in  1898. 

It  only  remains  for  me  to  add  that  a  more  dehght- 
ful,  and  less  exacting  visitor  it  would  not  be  possible 
to  find.  I  was,  when  she  came  to  Glashnacree,  an 
extremely  busy  professional  man,  whose  days  were 
fully  occupied  by  office  work  and  travelling  ;  and 
this  was  the  first  long  holiday  I  permitted  myself 
to  indulge  in  :  it  passed  only  too  quickly. 

It  was  at  Glashnacree,  by  mere  chance,  that  I 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Lecky.  I  came  upon  him, 
one  summer  afternoon,  standing  at  my  gate,  admiring 
the  scenery.  He  was  on  tour  in  Kerry,  and  staying 
at  Parknasilla  Hotel  close  by.  I  invited  him  in, 
to  look  at  the  finest  views  in  the  neighbourhood, 
from  rising  ground  at  the  back  of  the  house.  He  had, 
he  said,  never  seen  anything  finer,  and  became  very 
chatty  and  pleasant.  My  womenfolk  were  out, 
and  I  had  to  do  the  honours  at  afternoon  tea.  I 
don't  remember  that  he  uttered  anything  brilhant, 
and,  I'm  sure,  I  didn't ;  but  I  remember  that  he  sat 
in  the  very  lowest  armchair  in  the  room.  The 
position  seemed  to  reduce  his  body  to  the  smallest 
proportions,  exaggerating  his  ungainly  limbs,  and 
giving  undue  prominence  to  his  feet,  with  a  comical 
result  which  recalled  Dickens'  description  of  a  stage 
coach  vis-a-vis,  who  seemed  to  have  "  several  legs  too 
many  and  all  of  them  too  long."     I  told  him  how  Sir 


156  OMNI  AN  A 

Edward  Sullivan  (a  late  Master  of  the  Roils)  and  I 
unknowingly  competed  at  a  book  sale,  for  first 
editions  of  Rationalism  and  European  Morals ;  how 
1  won,  and  how  Sir  Edward  (who  was  a  cUent  of  mine) 
made  an  ineffectual  effort  to  wheedle  me  out  of  the 
volumes.  The  unassuming  great  man  was  amused  ; 
but  he  could  not  understand  the  craze  for  first  editions, 
as  later  ones  often  contained  valuable  additions  and 
corrections.  I  explained  that  my  predilections — 
and  I  supposed  that  of  other  book  lovers — were  for 
large  print,  good  paper,  and  wide  margins,  which 
were  often  sadly  lacking  in  reprints.  I  think  Lamb 
says  something  to  the  same  effect ;  but  I  wasn't  sure, 
and  didn't  quote  him.  There  is  a  statue  of  Lecky 
in  the  grounds  of  Trinity  College,  which  is,  to  my 
mind,  an  abomination. 

My  next  Hterary  volume,  after  an  interval  of  some 
years  (I  could  only  find  time  in  the  evenings,  over 
my  pipe,  to  write),  was  entitled  John  Orlebar. 

Leslie  Stephen,  at  the  time  when  the  book  was 
finished,  filled  the  editorial  chair  of  the  Cornhill,  and, 
somehow,  from  a  knowledge  of  his  books,  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  his  judgment  would  be  worth  having, 
and  would  be  given  without  fear  or  favour.  I  sent 
him  the  manuscript  and  waited  patiently.  After 
some  weeks,  the  verdict  reached  me.  Unfortunately 
I  cannot  find  the  letter  ;  but  I  remember  the  gist  of 
it.  He  regretted  that  he  could  not  accept  the  novel 
fo]-  the  Magazine,   because  he  feared  that  portions 


riiolo:  a.  C.  Betrxjord. 


SIR    LESLIE    STEPHEN, 


Facsimile  oi'  sir  leswe  Stephen's  handwriting. 


LESLIE  STEPHEN  157 

of  it  would  not  be  read  with  equanimity  by  some  "  old 
ladies  among  his  coimtry  subscribers  "  ;  but,  he  would 
not  return  the  manuscript  till  he  heard  from  me 
whether  I  agreed  to  his  strongly  recommending  its 
acceptance  by  Smith  &  Elder  for  publication  in  book 
form,  as  "  the  next  best  thing." 

I  need  hardly  say  that  I  gratefully  accepted  his 
of^er."^  Smith  &  Elder  brought  out  the  book,  which 
met  with  even  a  warmer  reception  from  the  critics 
than  the  first  work.  See  Appendix  (C).  A  letter 
was  written  from  the  House  of  Commons  by  a  gentle- 
man on  the  staff  of  the  Morning  Post,  who  said  that 
he  had  been  seriously  interrupted  in  his  work,  in 
the  reporters'  gallery,  "  by  the  chuckling  of  a  col- 
league over  a  book  which  turned  out  to  be  John 
Orlebar,''  etc.,  etc.  The  fact  that  a  stranger  took 
the  trouble  to  indite  this  epistle,  to  an  unknown 
author,  was  a  pleasant  surprise.  Another  equally 
crenuine  tribute  was  that  of  a  traveller  to  his  com- 

o 

panion  in  a  railway  carriage,  in  which  I  occupied  a 
seat.  The  eulogy  need  not  be  chronicled.  I  sat 
tight,  and  recalled  the  story  told,  under  similar 
circumstances,  of  the  inordinate  vanity  of  the  author 
of  Ten  Thousand  a  Year,  whose  name  was  on  his 
titlepage,  and  who  could  not  resist  the  tempta- 
tion to  make  himself  known  to  the  traveller  who 
owned   the   book.     At  the  first   stop   he   let   down 

*  The  facsimile  of  his  writing  is  from  a  letter  in  reference  to  a  review 
of  one  of  his  books  by  a  Nonconformist  periodical. 


158  OMNIANA 

the  window,  sent  a  porter  for  the  station-master, 
of  whom  he  inquired  whether  a  parcel  had  been 
received  addressed  to  Samuel  Warren,  Esq.  The 
train  was  delayed  ;  the  parcel  had  not  arrived  ; 
"  then  would  the  station-master  be  so  good  as  to 
forward  it  to  that  address  ?  " — handing  him  a  card. 
The  object  was  attained,  and  the  author  posed  as 
a  "  lion  "  for  the  remainder  of  the  journey,  stared  at 
furtively  over  newspapers,  and  whispered  about 
by  two  old  ladies,  who  would  go  home  and  tell  how 
they  had  actually  seen  the  writer  of  Ten  Thousand  a 
Year — a  book  undoubtedly  and  deservedly  much 
talked  of,  though  its  success  was  not  repeated.  I  give 
the  story  as  I  heard  it. 

But  the  appreciation  which  I  most  valued,  as 
brought  about  by  John  Orlebar,  was  that  of  Samuel 
Butler  ;  and,  when  I  was  afforded  the  opportunity 
of  acknowledging  his  appreciation  (conveyed  through 
a  friend),  I  let  myself  go  in  unstinted  praise  of  his 
first  book,  Ereivhon,  which  I  had  purchased  when 
it  came  out,  and  had  read  over  and  over  again.  We 
corresponded  afterwards,  about  his  other  books. 
He  writes  on  one  occasion — "  Such  letters  of  appro- 
"  bation  from  strangers  do  much  to  give  me  con- 
"  fidence  in  the  somewhat  unequal  combat  in  which 
"  I  have  been  engaged  for  some  years,  but  with  less 
"  support  outside  the  circle  of  my  immediate  friends 
"  than  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  had,  though. 
"  doubtless,  with  as  nmch  as  I  had  any  reason  to 


^■■1 

■ 

^Pf  I 

^H 

1 

^-^ 

J 

^^I^^^^^^^^^^^^^HI^^^^^^^Vj^^ii^^^^^^l 

L 

■ 

millHHiEb^ 

IL . . 

.^jhH 

PAo^j;  .7.  nmsclUt  Sons. 


SAMUEL   BUTLER. 


-^x    -^   ^-'     --    ^   '5—  <^^ 


y";?.Ly?c 


TACSIMILE   OF   SAMUKL  BUTLKR  S   HANDAVKITING. 


»^Sa^^    ^ 


^5A^\ 


SAMUEL  BUTLER  159 

''  expect.  Grumble,  however,  as  I  may,  in  this 
*'  respect,  I  do  nob  doubt  that  I  get  on  more  com- 
"  fortably,  and  do  the  Uttle  I  can  do  much  better 
"  for  being,  in  many  respects,  somewhat  of  a  faihire ; 
"  I  have  no  intention,  therefore,  of  doing  more  than 
"  I  can  help  to  disturb  a  position  which  suits  me 
"  on  the  whole,  fairly  well."  The  last  paragraph 
is  a  bit  cryptic,  but  probably  would  be  easily  ex- 
plained by  something  previously  said  by  me.  His 
books  were  not  a  financial  success  ;  and  of  this  he 
made  no  secret  in  his  letters.  The  fact  did  not 
seem  to  disturb  him  over-much.  Fame,  as  in  the 
case  of  George  Meredith,  was  slow  in  coming  to 
Samuel  Butler  ;  but  he  has  secured  his  niche.  I  give 
a  facsimile  of  his  handwriting,  and  a  reproduction  of 
his  portrait  from  a  photo  by  Russell  &  Sons. 

I  do  not  know  the  exact  date  of  a  little  Christmas 
])ook  of  mine,  entitled  The  Young  Idea.^  I  have  lost 
my  first  edition  copy  of  it,  which  was  probably 
borrowed,  and  not  returned.  But  I  remember  an 
amusing  fact  connected  with  its  bringing  out.  The 
manuscript  was  sent  to  Kegan  Paul.  It  was  accepted 
and  in  a  fortnight  or  so,  it  came  back  to  me,  with  a 
complete  set  of  "  proofs  "  and  a  polite  note  expressing 
regret  that  the  firm  was  obhged  to  decline  publishing. 
I  could  not  account  for  this  at  the  time  ;  but  the 
hitch  was,  no  doubt,  owing  to  religious  scruples,  on 
the  part  of  Kegan  Paul.  He  had  been  a  beneficed 
*  I  have  just  got  date — 1881 — from  Catalogue  of  London  Library. 


160  OMNI  ANA 

clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  then  an  agnostic, 
tlien  a  follower  of  Comte,  and  finally  a  devout  Roman 
Catholic.  The  little  book  was,  to  put  it  mildly,  very 
broad  Church  ;  and,  probably  he  did  not  realise  this 
till  he  came  to  read  it  in  cold  print,  and  was  at  the 
expense  of  "  setting  up." 

I  forget  who  published  the  first  edition  ;  but  the 
second  and  enlarged  edition  was  brought  out  by 
Field  and  Tuer.  Andrew  Tuer  wrote  to  me  sug- 
gesting that  I  should  have  it  illustrated  ;  and  I 
then  communicated  with  the  famous  veteran,  John 
Tenniel.  His  reply  was  that  he  had  "  altogethei- 
renounced  "  book  illustrating,  and  devoted  himself 
to  painting.  I  pressed  him  again,  offering,  of  course, 
his  own  terms,  but  in  vain  ;  so  I  left  the  matter  in 
the  hands  of  Tuer,  who  got  the  work  very  well  done 
by  an  artist  of  his  own  choosing  ;  and  the  book 
appeared  in  due  time,  brought  out  with  the  taste 
characteristic  of  that  Firm,  which,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
after  the  death  of  Tuer,  ceased  to  exist.  I  give  a 
portrait  of  Tenniel,  by  Russell  &  Sons,  with  a  fac- 
simile of  his  writing.  When  he  died  in  1908  he  had 
reached  the  ripe  age  of  ninety-four.  I  think  his 
best  black-and-white  work  is  to  be  found  in  his 
illustrations  to  ^sop's  Fables ;  but  Alice  in  Wonder- 
land will  keep  his  memory  green — or  rathei'  his 
pencil  will  keep  the  memory  of  Alice  green.  In 
Appendix  (D)  will  be  found  some  press  notices  of 
The  Young  Idea. 


\ 


FACSIMniB    OP  SIR   JOHN   TENNIEL'S   HANDWRmNG. 


I'hdto :  J .  Huxsell  tfc  Sons. 


SIR    JOHN    TENNIEL. 


MY  OTHER   NOVELS  161 

My  next  effort  was  entitled  Chronicles  of  Westerly  ; 
and,   when  completed,  there  arose  the  question  of 
what  to  do  with  it.     I  soon  made  up  my  mind  to  send 
it  to   Blackwood;  s  Magazine — ^that  most  famous  of 
periodicals.     The  MS.  went  off  to  Edinbui-gh,  and  I 
waited  for  a  couple  of  months  or  so  ;    then  I  ■s\n:ote, 
saying  that  though  I  feared  disappointment  I  still 
entertained  a  hope.     A  reply  came  from  the  editor, 
stating  that  he  had  nmch  pleasure  in  accepting  the 
novel,  and  that  a  first  instalment  of  "  proofs  "  would 
follow.    The  success  the  book  met  with  may  be  judged 
by  some  of  the  Press  notices  in  Appendix  (E).     My 
business  relations  with  this  great  publishing  house 
were  most  cordial,  and  the  pay,  by  the  magazine, 
was   splendid — indeed,   from   a   pecuniary   point   of 
view,  to   "  get  into "  Blackwood's   Magazine   means 
"  money."     The  novel  was  reprinted  in  three  volumes, 
and  subsequently  in  one  volume.     A  short  story  of 
mine,  entitled  Dream  Tracked,  complete  in  one  issue 
of  the  Magazine,  appeared  some  time  after  ;    and  1 
followed  it  up  by  sending  another  MS.  entitled  Doctor 
Quodlihet,  which  the  editor  accepted  with  a  flattering 
letter ;    but  stating  that  he  could  not  promise  me  a 
hearing  for  possibly  two  years,  as  his  "  serial  "  space 
was  pledged  for  that  time.     I  hadn't  patience  to  wait ; 
and  Field  and  Tuer  brought  it  out  in  one  volume. 
I  leave  the  Press  notices.  Appendix  {V),  to  speak  foi' 
it  also,  and  pass  on. 

In  1887  I  was  (genealogically)  greatly  exercised  in 

M 


102  OMNTANA 

my  iiiind  about  discovering  the  parentage  of  Captain 
Thomas  Goddard — Nos.  13  and  14,  Appendix  (A)  ; 
when,  hearing  of  a  Memoir  of  the  Goddards  of  Wilts,  by 
Richard  Jefferies  of  Cote  Swindon,  1  wrote  to  him, 
and  got  the  Httle  book  which  (of  no  assistance  by-the- 
bye)  was  without  pubhsher's  name,  and  had  no  date. 
But  it  was  the  first  work  of  a  man  who  was  destined 
to  take  a  high  place,  for  all  time,  in  the  ranks  of  the 
literary  elect ;  and  is  now  a  very  rare  book,  and 
highly  prized  by  collectors  of  his  writings.  His  short 
life  was  as  pathetic  as  his  fame  was  rapid.  Practically 
he  had  but  eight  or  ten  years  to  devote  to  the  produc- 
t  ion  of  his  best  works,  The  GameJcee'per  at  Home,  Wild 
Life  in  a  Southern  County,  The  Amateur  Poacher,  Hodge 
and  his  Masters,  Round  About  a  Great  Estate,  Wood 
Magic,  Life  in  the  Fields,  and  five  or  six  other  equally 
well-known  works;  including  fiction,  among  them 
that  charming  one,  Amaryllis  at  the  Fair,  which  indeed 
is  not,  strictly,  a  novel — being  devoid  of  plot.  Jeiferies 
was  the  son  of  a  small  farmer,  and  came  of  a  race  of 
farmers  ;  but  tilling  the  soil  was  not  congenial,  and 
he  took  to  reporting  and  to  writing  for  the  provincial 
Press,  earning  thereby  a  scanty  subsistence,  and 
struggling  manfully  against  poverty  and  illness,  till 
he  was  about  twenty-five.  From  then  on,  he  wrote, 
fighting  against  terrible  physical  prostration.  He 
underwent  four  surgical  operations  for  an  internal 
complaint,  recovering  only  to  be  prostrated  again, 
by  another  ailment,  which  finally  killed  him,  in  1887, 


I'/wto:  LinKhni  Stercoscupiv  i'n 


KICHAKD    JEFl'KKIES 


FACSIMILE   OF   RICHARD   JEFFERIES'    HANDWRITING. 


PJGHARD  JEFFERIES  163 

at  the  age  of  thirty-nine.  He  did  not  really  begin 
to  write  the  books  that  made  him  famous  till  he  was 
about  thirty,  confronted  all  the  while,  as  he  says,  by 
his  three  familiar  "  great  giants,  disease,  despair, 
and  poverty."  What  he  did  and  how  he  did  it,  has 
been  lovingly  told  by  Walter  Besant,  in  his  Eulogy. 
There  is  no  question  as  to  his  place  among  the  great 
ones  of  literature  ;  it  has  been  ungrudgingly  assigned  ; 
the  pity  of  it  is  that  his  life  was  so  short,  and  his 
sufferings  so  great.  The  portrait  is  by  the  London 
Stereoscopic  Company,  and  the  facsimile  of  his 
writing  is  from  a  letter  dated  Cote,  Swindon, 
February  20,  1875,  in  which  he  says  that  he  con- 
templated a  second  volume  on  the  Goddards  ;  but 
this  never  appeared  ;  and  he  turned  from  what,  no 
doubt,  must  have  been  the  uncongenial  pursuit  of 
pedigree,  to  the  study  of  Nature,  which  he  loved  so 
well,  though  he  found  her  relentlessly  cruel  and  un- 
pitiful.  His  Pantheism  was  indeed  as  chivalrous  as 
it  was  profound. 


I    MET  many  men  of  mark  at  Vernon  Hill.    Sir 
Arthur's  circle  of  acquaintance  was  a  large  one, 
and  included  all  the  literary  celebrities  of  note, 
many  of  whom  were   his  guests  from  time  to  time. 
He  was  the  most  agreeable,  genial,  and  non-assertive  of 


164  OMNI  ANA 

hosts^ — a  man  "  of  infinite  jest,  most  excellent  fancy," 
and  of  admirable  tact  in  dealing  with  even  such 
discordant  elements  as  Thomas  Carlyle  and  George 
Hemy  Lewes.  Lewes  was  a  frequent  guest,  and  a 
great  favourite  with  the  household.  The  toleration 
shown  to  him  by  the  sage  of  Chelsea,  was  that  of  a 
dyspeptic  bear  for  the  disrespectful  playfulness  of  a 
sprightly  terrier.  But  George  Henry  always  struck 
me  as  the  most  all-round  brilliant  one  in  any  gathering 
of  literary  men.  He  had  great  conversational  powers, 
much  verve,  and  was  inimitable  as  a  relater  of  good 
stories.  Personally,  he  was  "  nothing  much "  to 
look  at -a  pug-nosed,  deeply  pock-marked,  middle- 
sized  man,  who  wore  his  light  curly  hair  very  long. 
Mrs.  Carlyle  was  wont  to  speak  of  him  contemptuously 
as  "  the  Ape  "  ;  but  his  vivacity  fully  made  up  for  his 
want  of  good  looks.  There  was  something  suggestive 
of  German  in  his  aspect  and  French  in  his  manner ; 
but  he  was  altogether  English.  His  grandfather, 
Lee  Lewes,  was  a  highly  popular  comic  actor  and 
author  of  a  readable  book  of  Memoirs  in  four  volumes 
(1805)."'  George  Henry  himself  for  some  time  trod 
the  boards,  and  appeared  in  such  ambitious  characters 
as  Shy  lock  ;    but,  fortunately  for  literature,  he  was 

*  By -the- bye,  at  page  47,  vol.  i  of  these  Memoirs,  occurs  the 
observation,  "  He  has  two  eyes,  to  be  sure,  but  they  are  put  into  his 
head  with  dirty  lingers."  Twenty-two  years  after.  Lady  Morgan 
makes  one  of  her  characters  say,  '"  Irish  eyes,  large,  dark,  deepest,  and 
put  in,  as  it  were,  with  dirty  fingers  " — a  clean  case  of  theft  of  an  idea 
for  which  she  has,  ever  since,  got  credit  as  originator. 


riioto :  Ellintt  <t-  l-'ni. 

GEORGE    HEXRY   LEWES. 


G.  H.    LEWES— CHARLES  DICKENS     105 

not  a  success  as  aii  actor.  Ho  wrote  in  eai'ly  life  two 
aiionyinoiis  novels,  Rose,  Blanche  and  Violet  and 
Ranthorpe,  which,  then,  were  considered  improper,  but 
which  now,  judged  by  the  writings  of  many  of  our 
lady  noveHsts,  would  be  considered  mild.  His  Life  of 
Goethe  is  a  standard  book,  and  his  Biographical  History 
of  Philosophy,  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind,  Physiology 
of  Conifnon  Life,  and  other  works  are  well  known. 
These  brought  him  fame  ;  but  his  connexion  with 
"  George  EHot "  (Marian  Evans)  to  some  extent 
marred  his  social  success ;  yet  the  two  were  so 
distinguished  that  they  could  not  be  ignored,  and 
strait-laced  people  kept  on  "  never  minding."  I  saw 
her  once.  J.  W.  Parker,  my  uncle's  pubhsher,  gave 
fortnightly  tea-fights,  where  authors  met,  and  to 
which  (while  I  was  serving  my  apprenticeship  in 
London)  I  had  free  access— making  myself  useful  in 
helping  to  do  the  honours.  I  saw  her  there,  and  have 
not  forgotten  the  impression  she  made  upon  me. 
She  was  ugly  of  feature,  and  awkward  and  ungraceful 
of  gait  and  figure.  Their  mutual  admiration  was 
probably  altogether  intellectual ;  but  there  is  an 
illusiveness  in  affairs  of  this  sort  which  surprises  and 
baffles  the  inquisitive  outsider. 

Charles  Dickens  was  a  man  for  whom  Sir  Arthur 
had  a  great  admiration,  and  whose  humour  was  fully 
appreciated  at  Vernon  Hill.  The  monthly  instal- 
ments of  his  books  wc  eagerly  watched  for.  It  is 
on   record   that   the    Queen   expressed,   through   Sir 


166  OMNI  ANA 

Arthur,  a  wish  to  meet  Dickens,  but  there  was  great 
difficulty  in  getting  him  to  gratify  her  wish.  The 
interview,  when  it  did  come  off,  was  not  altogether  a 
success,  though  her  Majesty  was  most  gracious  ;  but 
the  surroundings,  no  doubt,  were  not  quite  congenial, 
and  he  was  out  of  his  element.  Probably  "  inteni- 
pestuous  bashfulness  "  *  w^ould  account  for  a  good 
deal  in  the  case  of  a  man  whose  intellectual  leanings 
were  not  altogether  aristocratic.  Before  I  had  seen 
him,  I,  somehow,  got  to  associate  him  physically,  in 
my  youthful  imagination,  with  that  most  dehghtful 
old  gentleman,  Mr.  Pickwick ;  and  I  was  disillusioned, 
and  hugely  disappointed,  to  find  him,  personally, 
suggestive  of  Mr.  Mantahni,  for  whom  I  had  a  pro- 
found contempt ;  this  contempt,  I  need  hardly  say, 
was  neghgible,  and  Dickens  has  taken  his  place  among 
the  immortals. 


A  SUBJECT  on  which  some  erroneous  statements 
have  been  made  was  the  inception  of  the 
Saturday  Review.  It  was  projected  in  the 
study  at  Vernon  Hill,  under  the  following  circum- 
stances. An  erudite  book  had  just  come  out  upon 
some  abstruse  subject,  on  which  its  author  was  an 
expert,  and  had  been  reviewed  in  the  columns  of  a 

*  John  Hales'  Golden  Remains. 


THE    SATURDAY    REVIEW  167 

weekly  literary  paper  (wliieli  shall  be  nameless), 
in  a  most  perfunctory  and  flippant  manner,  by  a 
contributor  whose  identity  seemed  to  have  been  pretty 
well  known  to  the  assembled  company.  A  general 
conversation  followed  on  the  inadequacy,  unrighteous- 
ness, dishonesty,  and  injustice  of  reviewing  generally. 
I  was  an  interested  boy-listener,  while  distinguished 
men  collogued.  The  necessity  for  an  able  journal, 
to  be  contributed  to  by  the  leaders  of  thought  in 
every  department  of  Uteratm'e,  pohtics,  and  art  was 
admitted — one  free  from  log-rolling,  and  which 
should  scourge  as  well  as  praise — independent,  fear- 
less, and  absolutely  without  bias.  It  was  George 
Meredith  who  said  :  ''A  work  of  genius  is  good  for 
"  the  pubhc.  What  is  good  for  the  public  should 
"  be  recommended  by  the  critics.  How,  then,  to 
"  come  at  them,  to  get  this  done."  The  Saturday 
Review  just  met  the  want.  J.  W.  Parker,  the  well- 
known  publisher,  was  of  the  party  ;  and  he  entered 
into  the  project  with  zest.  Pros  and  cons — financial 
and  other — ^were  discussed  ;  and  he  suggested  an 
editor,  whom  he  undertook  to  interview,  on  his  return 
to  London — Cook  of  the  Morning  Chronicle,  an 
irreverent  Northern,  whose  instinct  for  scenting  talent 
was  as  unerring  as  his  language  was  strong  ;  a  man 
who  did  not  spell  his  expletive  with  a  small  "  d  "  and 
a  dash  ;  who  called  a  spade  a  spade,  would  allow  his 
staff  to  do  the  same,  and,  if  need  be,  to  use  the  weapon 
in  any  way  required  for  the  digging  out  and  castigation 


168  OMNIANA 

of  chcirtalaiis.  Bubbles  were  to  be  burst,  wiiidbaizs 
to  be  pricked,  shams  to  be  attacked,  and  prejudices  to 
be  overtiirown  ;  specialists  were  to  be  secured  to  write 
on  every  subject ;  and  the  best  value  was  to  be  sought 
for,  and  given  to  the  public.  I  remember  the  excite- 
ment of  Parkei-  over  a  prospect  wliich  appealed  to 
him  irresistibly.  He  was  a  highly  strung,  nervous, 
bald,  spectacled  little  bachelor,  with  handsome, 
clearly  cut,  pallid  features,  a  massive  forehead,  and  a 
head  plentifully  stocked  with  brains.  He  went  back 
to  town  fully  accredited  to  act,  and  the  Saturday 
Review  was  the  result.  The  present  generation  can 
forin  no  idea  of  the  pubhc  excitement  over  the  paper  ; 
it  leaped,  at  once,  into  power  and  prosperity  ;  and  on 
every  subject,  the  question  was,  "  what  does  the 
Saturday  say  ?  "  Its  honesty  of  purpose  ;  the  ability 
of  its  writers  ;  and  the  fitness  of  its  editor  for  his 
responsible  post,  were  manifest ;  and  the  paper  had 
a  long  run  of  influence  and  prosperity. 

Cook  was  an  extraordinary  man.  Mrs.  Lynn 
Linton  gave  me  a  vivid  account  of  her  first  interview 
with  him,  as  a  young  girl,  when  he  was  editor  of  the 
Morning  Chronicle.  She  had  sent  in  an  article,  and 
he  wrote  telling  her  to  call.  When  he  saw  her  he 
addressed  her  as  a  "  danmed  chit  of  a  thing,"  and 
several  other  names  besides  ;  interlarding  his  speech 
w  itli  terrific  swear  words,  intimating  his  doubts  as  to 
her  unaided  authorship  of  the  article  ;  and  then  gave 
her  a   Blue   Book   with   passages   marked — -shutting 


ALEXANDER  SMITH  109 

her  up  in  a  room,  to  Amte  an  article  upon  it,  in  three 
hours.  The  result  was  that  he  put  her  on  the  staff  of 
the  paper  at  twenty  pounds  a  month.  This  is  what 
she  says  of  Cook,  as  quoted  by  G.  S.  Layard,  in  1901. 
He  startled  me  by  the  volley  of  oaths  he  rolled  out 
■ — oaths  of  the  strangest  compounds  and  oddest 
meanings  to  be  heard  anywhere- — oaths  which  he 
himself  made  at  the  moment,  having  a  speciality 
that  way  unsurpassed,  unsurpassable,  and  inimit- 
able. But  he  laughed  while  he  blasphemed."  The 
Blue  Book  to  which  Mi's.  Lynn  Linton  referred  was  on 
the  condition  of  the  miners  ;  and  Cook  was  the  man 
who  made  the  Saturday  a  success.  He  determined  to 
secure  her  for  his  new  venture  ;  and,  her  articles  on 
the  man-woman  or  The  Girl  of  the  Period,  raised  a 
storm  which  has  not  subsided  yet.  It  was  stated, 
some  years  ago,  in  Black  and  White,  that  the  Saturday 
was  founded  by  Lord  Sahsbury,  which  I  then  con- 
tradicted. But  he  and  Beresford  Hope  contributed 
to  its  columns,  and  to  its  coffers,  at  the  invitation  of 
its  editor,  as  did  many  other  men  of  mark. 


I  REMEMBER  a  great  excitement,  about  the  middle 
of  the  last  century,  caused  by  the  discovery, 
through  the  Critic  newspaper,  of  a  real,  live,  new 
poet — a  designer  of  lace  patterns  in  Glasgow — named 


170  OMNIANA 

Alexander  Siiiith.  He  became,  on  the  publication  of 
A  Life  Drama,  a  celebrity  and  a  literary  "  lion/' 
Everybody  discussed  him,  and  all  extravagantly 
praised.  1  heard  much  talk  about  him  at  Vernon 
Hill  ;  for  among  his  most  enthusiastic  admirers  were 
Sir  x\rthur  Helps,  G.  H.  Lewes,  Philip  James  Bailey 
(author  of  the  great  poem,  Festus,  of  which  Tennyson 
wrote  :  "  I  can  scarcely  trust  myself  to  say  how  much 
I  admire  it,  for  fear  of  falling  into  extravagance  ''), 
Browning,  and  scores  of  other  notable  men.  But, 
Time  sponges  many  names  of?  his  slate ;  and  this 
seems  to  have  been  the  fate  of  Smith  :  no  one  ever 
mentions  him  nowadays.  I  recollect  his  fine  descrip- 
tion of  a  tempestuous  night,  in  which  occur  these 
lines — 

"  the  terror-stricken  rain 
riings  itself  wildly  "gainst  the  window  pane." 

But  this  is  all  I  can  recall  of  his  Life  Drama  ;  just  as 
I  similarly  recall  a  passage  from  an  anonymous 
"  minor  poet,"  reviewed,  years  ago,  in  the  Pall  Mall 
Gazette — 

"  We  hold  our  lives. 
As  wind-blown  sparks  hold  momentary  fire." 

I  have  often  wondered,  since,  whether  that  minor  poet 
ever  got  into  the  higher  ranks,  and  threw  aside  his 
anonymity  ;  I  have  vainly  speculated  too  on  the 
passing  of  the  Glasgow  man.  Could  the  name  have 
had  anything  to  do  with  his  fate  ?  Alexander  was 
overshadowed  by  Smith,  no  doubt.  There  are  men  of 
that  surname  who  cannot  abide  it ;  and  have  resorted 


V 


.:ii^^r 


.ij'.LlL/i.-'    1'  ..Li      :.     1  J.  II  :  ,■•       '  i*,-.,     •.      IJ   <i.i.' 


jj.-.--:  j.i.1 


l-ACaiMILE   oy   PHILIP   JAMES    BAILEY  S    HANDWRITINQ. 


PHILIP   JAMES    BAILEY. 


WHAT  8  IN   A  NAME!'  171 

to  advertisements,  tleeds-poll,  and  the  Heralds* 
College,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  it ;  and,  yet,  it  is  on 
record  that  the  greatest  of  Greek  scholars,  the  Pro- 
vost of  Trin  :  Col :  Dnb  : ,  discovered  in  papyri,  a  man 
known  as  Smith  (S/xt^)  in  the  twentieth  year  of  the 
third  Ptolemy  B.C.  227.'''"  That  sui'ely  ought  to  be 
good  enough  to  foster  and  to  justify  any  amount  of 
pride  in  the  family  patronymic. 

All  this,  by-the-bye,  trenches  on  a  hobby  which  I 
can't,  for  the  hfe  of  me,  resist  enlarging  upon.  Un- 
doubtedly names  had  much  significance  in  ancient 
times ;  and,  that  an  individual  may  have  an  unlucky 
one,  is  a  behef  which  still  has  adherents.  I  came  to 
the  conclusion,  years  ago,  that  I  was  a  victim ;  and 
I  aired  my  views,  at  the  time,  in  the  columns  of  a 
London  daily  paper  to  the  following  eft'ect : — 

"WHAT'S  IN  A  NAME? 

"  Sir,— 

"  Can  a  name  handicap  a  man  in  life  ?  I  have 
"  long  held  the  behef  that  I  have  suffered  in  this 
"  respect  because  of  my  Christian  name,  James  ! 

"  Investigation  seems  to  confirm  the  truth  of 
"  this  behef.  There  never  was  a  supremely 
"  great  Enghsh,  Irish,  or  Scots  man  named 
"  James. 

*  Ji  I  recollect  rightly,  the  Provost  says  that  this  Smith  was  not 
one  by  trade,  but  a  brewer.  Be  this  as  it  may,  I  view  with  somcthiug 
more  than  complacency,  the  imprint  at  foot  of  my  title  page 


172  OMNI  AN  A 

'*  1  have  gone  carefully  through  the  EpUuin<' 
volume  of  the  Dictionary  oj  National  Bio(jrafhy. 
'  It  mentions  about  1300  persons  bearing  the 
'  Christian   name   of  James,  the   most   notable 
'  being   Outram,  Wolfe    (soldiers),    and   Ussher 

*  (Divine),  and  these  have  been  eclipsed  by 
'  hundreds  of  others.  The  two  next  in  import- 
■  ance  are  Watt  and  Boswell. 

"  One  can  recall  scores  of  famous  men  named 
'  John,  Hciny,  WiUiam,  Edward,  Thomas,  etc., 

*  but  when  cue  seeks  for  a  James  he  seeks  in 
'  vain. 

"  Unlucky  James." 

This  evoked  several  sympathetic  leplies  ;  and  the 
discussion  wound  up,  inconclusively,  with  the 
folloAving  : — 

'^UNLUCKY  JMIES. 

"  (From  Our  Own  Correspondent.) 

"  Paris,  Thursday. 

"  With  reference  to  the  plaints  of  '  Unlucky 
"  James  '  in  your  correspondence  colunms,  M.  de 
''  Rochetal,  a  gentleman  of  wealth,  who  takes  a 
"  special  interest  in  the  influence  of  names,  and 
"  has  originated  the  '  science  of  onomatology,' 
"  says  his  researches  on  the  subject  have  con- 
"  vinced    him    that    Christian    names    have    an 


WHAT'S   IN  A   NAME?  173 

*'  undoubted  effect  on  the  destinies  of  the  persons 
"  bearing  them.  This  opinion  is  based  on  twenty 
"  years'  personal  observation  and  profound 
"  research. 

"  '  Tell  me  a  man's  Christian  name  and  I  will 
"  describe  for  you  his  main  characteristics,'  says 
"  M.  de  Eochetal,  '  and  in  seven  cases  out  of  ten 
"  I  shall  be  right.  Lucky  names  are  Alfred, 
"  Edward,  Harry,  John,  Albert,  Louis,  and 
"  Paul ;  James,  Charles,  and  Francis  are  among 
"  the  unfortunate  names.'  " 

The  writer  might  have  added  the  testimony  of 
another  Frenchman,  La  Motte  le  Vayer  (of  whom,  see 
page  275),  who  makes  special  mention  of  James  as 
an  unlucky  name. 

According  to  Isaac  Disraeh,  De  Saussay  wrote  a 
big  book  of  panegyric  on  persons  of  his  own  Christian 
name,  Andrew  ;  two  Jesuits  did  the  same  on  persons 
named,  like  themselves,  Theophilus  and  Philif  ;  while 
Anthony  Saunderus  wrote  siinilarly  on  Anthonies. 
Buchanan  compiled  the  notable  lives  of  all  of  his  name 
which  he  could  unearth.  It  should  not  be  a  very  long 
or  difficult  task  to  perform  a  like  one  for  the  James's — 
they  comprise  a  "  job  lot  "  of  mediocre  items  of  whom 
I  may  be  allowed  to  flatter  myself  that  I  am  not  the 
least  illustrious  ;  which  would  not  be  saying  much  in 
the  way  of  self-laudation. 

Anyhow,  that    Fame    is   a    fickle   jade,    and    an 


174  OMNI  ANA 

indisciiminating  one,  to  boot,  is  patent ;  making 
luistakes  wliicli  Father  Time  has  often  to  correct. 
She  blew  her  trnmpet  loudly  over  Leonidas,  a  poem 
by  Glover,*  much  more  loudly  than  she  did  over 
Alexander  Smith's  Life  Drama,  and  with  a  like  result ; 
while  she  ignored  the  work  of  that  eccentric  genius 
R.  H.  Home  ;  who,  in  derision  of  her  verdict,  sold 
his  splendid  poem  of  Orion  for  a  farthing  a  copy  ! 
Ultimately  it  went  into  some  twelve  editions,  and  is 
now  a  classic  :  time  put  matters  right  in  his  case. 
It  is  surely  a  curious  comment  on  the  superior  judg- 
ment and  enhghtenment  of  the  last  generation,  that 
its  two  greatest  successes  in  literature,  judging  by 
sales  and  consequent  pecuniary  profits' — were  Tupper's 
Proverbial  Philosophy  and  the  novels  of  Mrs.  Henry 
Wood  ;  while  in  the  present  generation  the  magnates 

are  Miss  and  Mr.    — — .     I  leave  the  reader  to 

fill  in  the  blanks.  Time,  too,  is  gradually  doing 
justice  in  both  these  cases. 

There  are  many  remarkably  curious  instances  of 
persons  of  evanescent  literary  fame.  I  dug  one  up — 
so  to  speak — when  delving  in  a  genealogical  minefield, 
for  some  one  else  ;  and  I  think  the  story  is  strange 
enough  to  be  interesting — ^it  is  that  of  a  Mrs.  Bennett, 
whose  utter  obscurity  followed  close  upon  a  splendid 
blaze  of  popularity. 

*  "I  look  upon  this  poem,"  says  the  great  Lord  Lj-tteltou,  "as 
one  of  those  few  which  will  be  handed  down  to  posterity."  And  so  it 
has  been — unread. 


MRS.    BENNETT  175 

Anna  Maria  Evans  was  the  daughter  of  David 
Evans,  a  Welshman,  who  carried  on  business  as  a 
Grocer  on  "  The  Back,"  in  Bristol.  She  w^as  born  at 
Merthyr  Tydvil,  in  Glamorganshire,  and  married  .  .  . 
Bennett,  a  tanner  of  Brecknock,  who  set  up  in 
business  at  Tooting  in  Surrey.  She  was  a  very  remark- 
able character.  Early  in  her  career  she  kept  a  slop- 
shop in  Wych  Street,  then  a  chandlery  in  White- 
chapel,  and  subsequently  was  Matron  of  a  workhouse. 
She  wT'ote  several  novels,  to  which  I  will  refer 
presently.  The  date  of  her  marriage  I  have  not  been 
able  to  learn,  but  soon  after  that  event  Admiral  Pye, 
a  middle-aged  reprobate,  notorious  for  his  amours, 
entered  her  shop  one  day  to  escape  from  a  shower  of 
rain,  and  made  her  acquaintance,  with  the  result  that 
by  her  beauty  and  vivacity  combined,  she  captivated 
him,  and  ultimately  became  his  "  housekeeper," 
with  presumably  the  sanction  of  her  husband.  She 
is  said,  at  her  death,  to  have  left  a  large  family.  I 
only  know  of  two  children,  Thomas  Pye  Bennett,  R.N., 
with  whom  we  are  not  concerned,  and  Harriet  Pye 
Bennett,  who  became  remarkable  as  an  actress  and 
wife  of  Lieut.  James  Esten,  R.N.  One  would  have 
thought  that  the  mother  would,  under  the  circum- 
stances, have  suppressed  the  name  of  Pye  ;  but  she 
was  apparently  proud  of  it,  and  boldly  faced  the  social 
crux  by  coupling  the  names  of  husband  and  Admiral, 
and  transmitting  both  to  her  offspring,  a  sort  of 
"  honours  divided  "  arrangement.     According  to  law 


176  OMNIANA 

the    children    were    legitimate.     Mrs.    Bennett    was 
(as  above  stated)  a  novelist ;    not  only  that,  but  in 
obituary  notices  oi"  her  she  is  bracketed  with  Fielding, 
with   Richardson,   with   Fanny   Burney,   and   other 
famous  authors  of  her  time.     Her  first  book,  in  four 
volumes,  Anna,  or  Memoirs  of  a  Welch  (sic)  Heiress, 
was  sold  out  on  the  day  of  publication,  and  others  were 
equally    successful.     Several    were    translated    into 
French    and    German.     Some    of    the    titles    were : 
Juvenile  Indiscretions,  Agnes  de  Courci,  Ellen,  Countess 
of  Castle  Howel,  Vicissitudes  Abroad,  or  the  Ghost  of  my 
Father,  The  Beggar  Girl,  etc.     Her  popularity  as  an 
authoress  was,  according  to  contemporary  testimony, 
enormous  !     It  is  strange  that  her  literary  reputation 
should  have  so  utterly  passed  into  oblivion.     The 
fact  of  the  run  on  her  first  book,  on  the  day  it  appeared, 
obviously  points  to  the  certainty  that  Mrs.  Bennett 
must  have  been  then  notorious,  and  the  "  talk  of  the 
town,''  as  the  sale  on  the  date  of  issue  could  not  have 
been  based  on  merits  which  the  public  had  not  had 
time  to  discover.     The  book,  though  anonymous,  was 
evidently   expected,   and   the   authoress   must  have 
been   well   known.     It    appeared   in    1785,    with    a 
Dedication  to  the  Princess  Royal,  which  confirms  my 
supposition.     The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography 
speaks   of   her   popularity   in   1794   as   "  immense." 
The  famous  Gentleinan' s  Magazine,  in  an  obituary 
notice,  carefully  avoids  saying  anything  about  her 
history,  and  simply  enlarges  on  the  popularity  of  her 


ADMIRAL   PYE  177 

books  ;  but  Charles  Lee  Lewes,  the  comedian,  in  his 
Memoirs,  is  not  reticent.  He  knew  her  personally, 
and  wrote  during  her  lifetime.  His  Memoirs  came 
out  in  1805.  She  died  in  1808.  He  heads  his  notice 
of  her,  "  Manageress  and  Authoress."  "  The  many 
"  domestic  occurrences,"  he  says,  "  which  would  ill- 
"  become  me  to  narrate,  I  pass  over.  Distinguished 
"  characteristics  are  not  to  be  judged  by  common  rules, 
"  at  the  expense  of  a  lady's  feelings."  Notwithstand- 
ing these  protestations,  he  goes  on  to  tell  the  amusing 
story  of  how  the  breach  came  about  between  Admiral 
Pye  and  his  "  housekeeper."  The  old  reprobate  was 
engaged  in  an  amour  with  a  Miss  Louisa  Ellis,  and, 
in  the  hurry  of  correspondence  with  both  ladies,  put 
the  letters  into  wrong  envelopes,  and  hastily  entrusted 
Mrs.  Bennett's  to  her  son-in-law,  Lieut.  Esten,  for 
delivery,  which  resulted  in  a  rupture.  When  Lee 
Lewes  wrote  she  was  Manageress  of  the  Theatre  Koyal, 
Edinburgh,  where  her  daughter  was  acting,  under 
circumstances  detailed  below  ;  Esten  and  his  wife 
having  separated  by  a  mutual  legal  agreement,  in 
which  he  renounced  all  claim  upon  her — Mrs.  Bennett 
paying  off  his  debts.  In  the  Preface  to  her  novel, 
Ellen,  Countess  of  Castle  Howel,  and  dated  March, 
1794,  Mrs.  Bennett  states  how,  "  in  consequence  of 
engagements  entered  into  she  was  involved  in  the 
greatest  distress  both  of  mind  and  circumstances," 
and  added,  "  the  few  who  know  the  author's  history 
"  for  the  past  eighteen  months,  know  also  the  little 

N 


178  OMNI  ANA 

"  reason  she  had  to  apprehend  the  evil  she  has  en- 
"  countered — four  hundred  miles  distant  from  home, 
"  family,  and  friends, — a  stranger  in  a  country  where 
"she  was  literally  taken  in — her  spirit  broken,  her 
"  health  impaired,  her  domestic  peace  and  dearest  pride 
"  totally  destroyed,"  etc.  (The  itahcs  are  hers.)  These 
remarks  clearly  refer  to  her  disastrous  venture  as 
manager  of  the  Theatre  Koyal,  Edinbm'gh,  in  1793, 
a  post  which  she  obtained  through  the  influence  of 
her  daughter  with  the  Duke  of  Hamilton,  under  whose 
"  protection  "  Mrs.  Esten  was  then  living,  and  by 
whom  she  had  a  daughter  who  became  wife  of  the 

third  Lord  R .''• 

I  possess  two  of  Mrs.  Bennett's  books — Ellen, 
Countess  of  Castle  Howel,  in  four  volumes  ;  and  The 
Beggar  Girl,  in  live.  From  these  it  would  appear  that 
she  had  none  of  the  coarseness  of  Fielding,  and  a 
good  deal  of  the  namby-pamby  twaddlesomeness 
of  Richardson.  As  far  as  my  judgment  goes,  she  had 
as  good  a  title  to  fame  as  the  latter  ;  yet,  notwith- 
standing her  enormous  popularity,  she  has  passed 
into  utter  obhvion  ;  and  only  a  searcher  in  the  bye- 
ways  of  literature  is  likely  to  come  across  any  of  her 
books.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  she  was 
acquainted    with    that    famous    gutter-child    Emma 

*  II  has  been  abseiled  that  a  Scotch  marriage  look  place  between 
the  Duke  and  Mrs.  Esten  ;  but  how  even  the  laxity  of  such  an  accom- 
modating ceremony  could  ap])ly  where  there  was  no  divorce,  and  during 
the  lifetime  of  the  Duchess  and  Lieut.  Esten,  one  does  not  well  under- 
stand. 


EMMA  LADY  HAMILTON  ITJ 

Hart,    Lady    Hamilton,    the    captivator    of    Nelson. 
They  started,  socially,  on  the  same  low  plane,  and  the 
mothers  of  Loth  were  Welsh.     Another  contemporary 
was    the    popular   actress   Jane   Powell,    of   Covent 
Garden,    who     had     been    housemaid    when     Lady 
Hamilton  was  luirsemaid  in  the  house  of  Dr.  Budd, 
and  whose  friendship  remained  unbroken — much  to 
the  advantage  of  the  former,  as  her  ladyship  drew 
huge  crowds  when  it  was  known  she  was  to  be  at  the 
play.     There  is  an  amusing  story  of  how,  in  Dr.  Budd's 
kitchen  one  evening,  Jane  enacted  the  part  of  the 
Grecian  Daughter.     The  poor  cook,  a  Yorkshire  girl, 
who  had  been  persuaded  to  stand  up  as  represent- 
ing  Dionysius,    received    a    blow    from    Jane — not 
with  a  dagger,  but  a  ladle — which  prostrated  her. 
The  Doctor,  attracted  by  the  noise,  administered  a 
severe  reprimand,  but  Jane  retorted  with  energy  that 
both  master  and  mistress  were  totally  mistaken  in  their 
ideas,  and  possessed  no  taste.    Naturally  she  lost  her 
place,  and  in  1787  became  an  immediate  success  on 
the  stage.     She  is  described  in  the  Dramatic  Mirror, 
1808,    as    "  majestically    beautiful,    dignified,    and 
elegant."     I  give,  in  connexion  with  these  people,  a 
most  extraordinary  medley  which  will  interest  the 
genealogist  (see  Appendix  G),  and  pass  on,  remarking, 
by  the  way,  that  a  good  deal  which  is  puzzhng  about 
Fame,  may  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  notoriety 
is  often  mistaken  for  it,  and  that,  as  the  judgment  and 
opinions  of  the  individual  change  with  age,  so  does 


180  OMNI  AN  A 

the  verdict  of  the  masses  change  with  regard  to  the 
merits  of  the  individual.  However,  Father  Time  is, 
in  the  long  run,  the  real  arbiter,  from  whom  there  is 
no  appeal. 


BUT  1  must  get  on  with  my  reminiscences.  After 
knocking  about  London  and  the  provinces  ; 
and,  having  married,  and  given  "  hostages  to 
fortune,"  I  began  to  think  seriously  of  settling  down. 
I  always  had  a  hankering  after  the  old  country  ;  and 
when  a  chance  presented  itself  I  jumped  at  it,  but 
hardly  expected  that  the  jump  would  land  me  again 
in  Ireland.  A  vacancy  for  a  District  Architect  under 
the  Irish  Ecclesiastical  Commissioners  was  advertised 
in  1862.  The  duties  comprised  the  supervision  of 
church  works  in  nine  counties,  and  extended  from  the 
sea  at  Carlingford  to  the  sea  at  BelmuUet,  with 
residence  in  a  central  position,  at  Killeshandra.  There 
were  ninety-seven  candidates,  from  whom  six  were 
selected  ;  and  finally  1  was  chosen.  This  post  I  held 
for  eight  years  before  the  Disestabhshment  of  the 
Church. 

In  those  days  everything  in  the  way  of  repairs  to 
the  fabric  was  done  by  those  Commissioners,  without 
an}'  expense  whatever  to  the  parish  or  the  clergyman, 
whose  vestry  was  supplied  with  jug,  basin,  and  the 


DUTIES    AS  CHURCH   ARCHITF.CT      181 

other  el  ceteras  ;  his  laundry  bill  for  washing  towels, 
surplice,  etc.,  was  paid  for  also  ;  and  he  was  given  a 
large  Bible  and  prayer-book  for  church  use  ;  even 
the  rebinding  of  these  books  was  done  when  neces- 
sary ;  his  postage  was  refunded,  and  the  sweep  was 
paid  for  sweeping  flues  of  vestry  and  heating  chambers. 
All  this  was  in  the  "  good  old  times."  When  repairs 
were  required,  the  Parson  reported  to  the  head  office 
in  Merrion  Street,  and  the  Architect  had  then  to 
visit.  I  remember  having  to  go  to  Belnmllet  about 
the  putting  on  of  a  few  slates  after  a  gale  ;  and  this 
was  no  trifling  journey,  though  the  repairs  were 
trifling  enough.  One  had  to  get  to  Ballina  by  the 
"  long  car  "  from  Shgo  (which  was  a  day's  journey  in 
itself),  and  then  to  post  (another  day's  journey)  to 
BelmuUet,  through  a  wild  tract  of  Mayo  bog,  flanked 
by  bald-headed  mountains,  with  the  prospect  of  a 
similar  return  programme.  And  glad  enough  one 
was  to  get  back  to  the  genial  host  of  the  Imperial 
Ifm  at  BaUina,  the  late  Wilham  Flynn,  one  of  the 
best  of  good  fellows  ;  for  there  was  always  a  certain — 
or  uncertain — amount  of  risk  in  this  journey — an 
upset,  a  breakdown  of  horse  or  of  car,  or  a  driver  too 
much  given  to  potheen,  an  article  which  in  those  days 
was  easily  got  in  Mayo. 

On  one  of  these  return  trips  in  winter,  when  dark- 
ness had  set  in,  I  began  to  be  very  uneasy  because  of 
the  reckless  manner  in  which  the  driver,  a  man  named 
Barrett,  was  steering  his  vehicle.     He  had  evidently 


182  OMNTANA 

taken  more  than  was  good  for  liitn  ;  and  ^\llon  we 
came  in  sight  of  the  ghmmering  hghts  of  the  town  of 
Crossniohna  T  liegged  of  him  to  pnll  up  and  go  easy, 
])nt  all  to  no  purpose.  He  dashed  furiously  through 
the  main  street,  and,  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  knocked 
down  a  child  just  in  front  of  the  police  barrack,  who 
happened  to  be  the  son  of  the  R.I.C.  sergeant. 
Fortunately  the  boy  was  only  very  slightly  injured, 
but  there  was  no  end  of  excitement  in  the  town. 
Barrett  was  arrested,  being  manifestly  drunk.  In 
the  dim  light  I  caught  sight  of  a  black  bottle  in  the 
well  of  the  car,  and  hastily  threw  my  rug  over  it  as 
I  jumped  off.  Barrett  was  locked  up,  and  I  was 
permitted  to  drive  the  car  to  Ballina,  but  if  the 
^potheen  bottle  had  been  spotted  by  tlie  ]:)olice,  horse 
and  car  would  have  been  seized. 

Halfway  between  Balhna  and  Belmullet  a  road 
branched  off  to  the  right,  leading  through  some  twelve 
miles  of  dreary  bog  to  the  Church  of  Poulathomas, 
which  was  on  my  visiting  list.  Going  there  one  day 
tlirough  a  fearful  storm  of  wind  and  rain  I  saw  in 
front,  driving  a  cow,  a  strange-looking  figure  which 
turned  out  to  be  a  girl  of  apparently  twelve  or  four- 
teen who  hadn't  a  "  stitch  ''  on  her  but  a  Mayo  man's 
grey  frieze  tail  coat,  buttoned  up  the  back  and  with 
the  tails  in  front.  As  the  car  apj^roached,  the 
child  turned  and  suddenly  sat  down  oii  the  sod- 
fence  by  the  roadside,  tlnis  making  the  best  of  the 
''situation,''  till  I  had  passed. 


I   8TAP.T   PTJTVATE   PRACTICE         183 

.Who7i  Gladstone  disestablished  the  Church,  the 
officials  of  the  Ecclesiastical  Conniiission  were  given 
the  option  of  a  two-thirds  salary  or  of  a  lump  sum, 
calculated  according  to  age.  I  had  no  idea  that  I 
would  have  held  out  so  long  as  I  have  done  ;  and  I 
went  in  for  the  lump  sum  and  came  to  Dublin  to 
start  on  my  own  account.  Since  then  I  have  been 
in  the  office  from  which  I  now  write. 

I  opened  with  a  big  job  at  Annamore  House,  Co. 
Shgo,  for  the  late  Chas.  O'Hara,  D.L.,  and  followed 
it  up  with  another  at  Mount  Falcon  for  Utred  Knox, 
D.L.  Then  I  got  into  harness  with  the  newly- 
constituted  Church  Representative  Body — a  con- 
nexion which  has  been  maintained  unbroken  for 
over  forty  3"ears. 

That  the  Church  has  recovered  marvellously  from 
the  knock-down  blow  which  it  received,  my  own 
experience  goes  to  confirm.  It  has  fallen  to  my  lot  to 
build  a  good  many  churches  since  that  event — among 
the  number  Arthurstown,  Co.  Wexford ;  Rattoo, 
Co.  Kerry  ;  Killadease,  Co.  Fermanagh  ;  Donough- 
patrick,  Durrow,  Syddan,  Lynally  (all  four  in  the 
diocese  of  Meath),  Clane,  Co.  Kildare  ;  Rathdare, 
Queen's  Co.,  and  the  Memorial  Church  at  Kylemore 
for  Mitchell  Henry.  Wliile  this  latter  was  in  progress 
I  was  at  the  same  time  busy  completing  the  works  at 
his   seat,  Kylemore   Castle,*  every  stone   for  which 

*  In  the  early  stages  of  this  l)uilding  the  County  Surveyor  of  C.'alway 
was  associated  with  me. 


184  OMNI  AN  A 

(Dalkey  granito)  was  soul  from  DiiLliii  by  ship  to 
Letterfrack,  in  Co.  Galway. 

To  get  to  Kylemore  in  those  days  was  no  easy 
matter.  The  train  landed  me  at  Westport  the  first 
day,  the  next  meant  posting  to  Leenane,  the  third  was 
devoted  to  castle  and  church,  while  the  fourth  dropped 
met  at  Westport  in  time  for  the  night  mail ;  practi- 
cally it  "  spoiled  "  a  week.  But  there  was  no  lack 
of  work  in  those  days  to  keep  a  man's  spirit  up.  I 
had  on  hand  at  one  time  or  another,  besides  the 
buildings  mentioned  above,  Ashford  Castle,  Cong, 
for  the  late  Lord  Ardilaun  ;  *  also  his  mansion  at 
St.  Ann's,  Clontarf  ;  Ballyburley,  the  residence  of 
Judge  Wakeley ;  Coolavin,  the  residence  of  The 
MacDcrmott ;  Tinnakilly  House,  near  Wicklow,  for 
tiie  late  Captain  Halpin ;  rebuilding  of  Barronston, 
near  Mullingar,  for  the  late  Colonel  Malone,  after 
which  it  was  burned  and  rebuilt  a  second  time,  on 
a  smaller  scale  by  the  present  Colonel  Malone  from 
my  plans.  I  also  restored  Harristown  House  (after 
a  fire)  for  the  late  Mr.  La  Touche  ;  and,  as  might 
be  expected,  I  left  my  mark  in  my  own  county,  at 
Ballyseedy,  for  Mr.  Blennerhassett ;  at  Cahernane, 
Killarney,  for  Mr.  Herbert ;  at  Dunkerron  and 
Drumquinna,  for  Sir  John  Colomb  ;  at  Derreen, 
for  Lord  Lansdowne ;  and  at  the  new  hotels  of 
Kenmare  and  Parknasilla,  etc. 

When  rebuilding  Burnham,  near  Dingle,  for  Lord 

"■  The  bridt^e  portion  to  the  left  in  illustration  is  not  ray  work. 


Photo:  Welch,  Belfast 


KVLEMUKE   CASTLE. 


Photo:  Lawrence,  Dublin. 


ASlIEUliD    CASTLE,    CONG. 


A  PRACTICAL  JOKE  18f) 

Ventry,  I  went  there  usually  with  the  builder.  We 
arrived  in  Tralee  on  one  occasion  by  a  late  train  ; 
and  at  Benner's  Hotel  met,  in  the  public  room,  a 
notoriously  disagreeable  traveller  for  a  wine  and 
whisky  firm.  He  was  detested  by  his  brother 
"  commercials "  and  by  hotel  servants  generally, 
and  the  evening  spent  in  his  company  added  myself 
to  the  malcontents.  My  companion  and  I  were  up 
for  an  early  breakfast  in  order  to  catch  the  six  o'clock 
mail  car  for  a  four  hours'  drive  to  Dingle,  and  while 
we  were  at  it  I  saw  a  large  white  glass-stoppered 
bottle  on  a  corner  of  the  mantelpiece,  filled  with 
a  most  seductive-looking  amber-tinted  liquid.  I 
pointed  it  out  to  Michael,  the  waiter. 

*'  Bedad,"  said  he,  "  it's  one  of  Mr. 's  whisky 

samples,"  and,  sure  enough,  so  it  was. 

I  filled  the  builder's  flask  and  my  own  from  it, 
treated  Michael  and  the  "  boots  "  to  a  taste,  and 
practically  reduced  the  contents  to  about  a  third. 
The  difference  was  made  up  with  water,  nicely  brought 
to  the  proper  hue  by  a  judicious  addition  from  the 
tea-pot.  The  joke  was  hugely  enjoyed  by  the  waiter 
and    "  boots,"    who    foresaw    comical   results   when 

Mr.  asked  the  first  Kerry  customer  to  sample 

the  contents.  We  disappeared,  and  did  not  return 
till  late  next  day.  The  "  boots,"  as  he  met  us  at  the 
car  office,  could  scarcely  contain  himself,  and  was 
incoherent  in  his  excitement ;  but  his  reply  to  my 
first  question  spoke  volumes — 


186  OMNI  ANA 

"  Yerra  ;  he  riz  blazes  all  round,  so  he  did  !  " 
Vm  afraid  I  must  admit  that,  half  a  century  ago, 
I  was  sadly  deficient  in  that  gravity  which  should 
distinguish  a  staid  professional  man.  The  comic 
aspect  of  a  situation  always  appealed  to  me.  But, 
I  must  not  give  myself  away  by  admitting  too  much 
in  the  way  of  escapades,  and  will  content  myself  by 
supplementing  the  Dingle  episode  by  a  few  others.  I 
found  myself,  one  evening,  in  company  with  my  friend 
whom  I  have,  elsewhere  named  Eobinson,  waiting 

for  a  train  from  Wexford  at  R station,  mth  a 

spare  hour  on  an  autumn  evening  to  be  got  through 
somehow.  Time  hung  heavy  on  our  hands,  and 
something  had  to  be  done.  We  sat  disconsolately 
smoking  on  a  platform  bench.  A  porter  emerged 
from  a  shed,  carrying  two  lamps  in  each  hand — which 
were  to  be  replenished,  and  got  ready  for  lighting 
the  first-class  compartments  only  of  the  incoming 
carriages.  He  produced  a  large  oil  can  from  an 
adjoining  store,  and  set  it  down  in  a  hurry,  close  to  a 
water  tap,  and  ran  to  meet  a  brougham  with  passengers 
and  luggage,  which  meant  a  prospective  '*  tip." 
While  he  was  of^,  trundling  his  truck,  I  suddenly 
reahsed  potential  possibihties,  for  I  resented  the  par- 
tiality shown  to  first-class  passengers.  The  moment 
was  propitious,  and  the  temptation  irresistible.  I 
turned  on  the  tap  and  let  the  water  into  his  oil-can, 
while  Robinson  mounted  guard.  We  had  ample 
time  to  complete  our  arrangements,  filled  our  pipes 


ANOTHER  PRACTICAL  JOKE    187 

again,  and  sat  down  to  await  results,  as  we  watched 
the  porter  sedulously  performing  his  duty,  filling  his 
lamps,  and  trimming  their  wicks — our  aspects  sug- 
gestive of  placid  innocence.  When  the  train  arrived, 
things  began  to  hum  a  bit.  He  went  aloft,  and 
dropped  the  lamps,  as  they  were  handed  up  by  the 
guard,  into  their  receptacles.  Then  the  fun  began. 
With  a  lighted  bit  of  tow  at  the  end  of  a  long  wire,  he 
set  to  work  to  start  the  illuminations.  Hiss — sputter 
— spit — hiss — a  flare  up,  and  then  a  disappointing 
flash  !  It  was  no  go.  The  station-master  put  in  an 
appearance,  to  start  the  train,  and  waxed  wrath. 

**  What  are  you  fumbhng  about,  up  there  ?  Finish 
up  the  job,  and  come  down  out  of  that !  " 

"  Divil  a  wan  of  'em  will  light,  sir,"  explained  the 
porter.     "  Shure  there's  something  wrong  wid  'em." 

There  were  sundry  high  words  and  consultations 
on  the  platform,  between  station-master,  guard, 
engine-driver,  and  porter,  which  ended  in  an  angry 
"  draw,"  wound  up  by  the  guard's  pronouncement — 

"  Divil  a  hair  I  care  !  I  can't  stop  any  longer 
with  the  mail.  Jump  up,  Paddy,  and  drive 
ahead." 

Paddy  obeyed,  the  green  flag  was  waved,  the 
whistle  sounded,  and  off  we  went  in  semi-darkness. 
Soon  there  was  no  end  of  grumbling,  and  complaints  ; 
and,  at  every  station,  as  it  grew  darker,  the  demands 
for  light  grew  louder.  Protests  were  of  no  avail. 
The  passengers  in  our  compartment  were  furious,     1 


188  OMNIANA 

impressed,  londly,  upon  Robinson,  my  conviction 
that  it  was  our  duty  to  write  to  the  Manager.  He 
quite  agreed.  Everybody  determined  to  do  the  same. 
I  got  out  at  Westland  Row,  with  a  prospect  of  further 
developments  ;  and  after  some  days'  delay,  I  called, 
at  his  office,  upon  Payne,  the  Manager  (who  was  an  old 
friend),  to  condole  with  him. 

"  I  suppose,"  I  said,  "  you  had  complaints  about 
tliat  unlighted  train,  last  week  ?  I  was  in  it,  and 
heard  a  lot  of  grumbling." 

"  Grumbhng  !  "  said  he,  "  look  here."  And  he 
showed  me  a  sheaf  of  letters.  "  The  woi'st  of  it  is 
that  Lord  and  Lady  W — —  were  travelling  by  it ; 
and  he's  a  troublesoine  customer.  However,  it's 
all  over  now." 

"  They  were  in  the  next  compartment  to  me,"  I 
said,  "  and  I  heard  every  woi'd.  Come  across  to  the 
Grosvenor  Hotel  and  have  some  lunch,  and  1*11  tell 
you  all  about  it." 

He  laughed  when  I  made  a  full  confession,  and 
amiably  condoned  all  the  trouble  I  had  given  him  ; 
but — I  was  not  to  do  it  again.  The  final  outcome  of 
it  was  when,  later  on,  I  interviewed  the  porter  at 

R and  talked  the  matter  over  sympathetically 

with  him. 

"  Ay  !  "  he  ren\embcred  the  evening  "  right 
enough.  Some  blackguard  played  a  trick  on  me,  and 
wathered  me  ile  can.  If  I  had  a  howlt  of  him,  I'd 
larn  him  something  !  " 


ROBINSON  ADVISES  189 

"  There  were  only  two  of  us  on  the  plat- 
form,"' I  said.  "  Would  you  know  the  other 
man  ?  '' 

"  I  didn't  take  no  note  of  aither  of  ye,"  he  repHed. 
"If  it  was  him  that  done  it,  I  wouldn't  know  him 
from  Adam." 

"  Well,  I'd  know  him,"  said  I,  "  but  he  got  off, 
anyhow." 

If  1  could  onl}'  have  let  Robinson  in  for  a  row 
with  that  porter,  it  would  have  rounded  things  off 
dramatically. 


K 


NOCKING  about  a  good  deal,  as  I  had  to 
do,  on  railways,  I,  occasionally,  came  across 
other   amusing    incidents   worth   recording. 

I    remember  going  to  M^ on  the   G.S.W.R.,  on 

a  Saturday  some  years  ago,  for  a  week-end  visit  to 
Robinson.  We  are  still  the  best  of  friends,  though 
we  never  agree  about  anything ;  but,  arguing  about 
our  differences  of  opinion  only  helps  to  pass  the 
time  pleasantly,  as  on  this  occasion.     He  cautioned 

me,    as   he   dropped   me    at  M- station  on  my 

return  journey,  not  to  "  tackle "  the  station- 
master,  as  he  Avas  a  very  hot-tempered  man,  and 
particularly  ferocious  on  the  evening  after  a  cattle 
and  pig  fair — as  this  was. 


I'JU  OMNIANA 

\ou  duii'L  Avaiil  tu  go  near  liiju,"  lie  mxid,  "  as 
yuLi've  gul  your  ticket/' 

"  All  light/'  I  replied.     "  Gootl-bye,  old  chap." 

I  bided  my  time  and  watched  for  an  opportunity 
to  disregard  the  advice.  After  witnessing  several 
altercations  between  the  station-master  and  drunken 
cattle  jobbers,  over  tickets  and  change,  and  "  waggins 
for  bastes  and  pigs,"  etc.,  I  concluded  he  was  in  a  fit 
state  of  mind  to  be  "  tackled  "  with  satisfaction  to 
m3'self.  He  was  soon  busy  entering  items  in  a  book, 
and  I  had  a  full  view  of  his  bald  head  over  the  counter, 
inside  his  trap  door.  1  coughed  and  peeped  in, 
coughed  again,  and  stooped  to  glance  up  at  a  clock 
on  the  wall  behind  him,  finishing  up  with  a  kick  at 
the  panelling.     He  looked  up. 

"  What  the  divil  are  you  goin'  on  wid  them 
monkey  tricks  f or  ?  "  he  asked,  "  bobbin'  and  noddin' 
and  duckin'  ?     Is  it  a  ticket  you  want  ?     Spake  up  !  " 

I  spoke  up — shouted,  "  No,  it  isn't.  I've  got  a 
return."' 

"  Very  well  so  !     Gowt-o-that  if  it  isn't." 

''  That  clock  of  yours  is  an  uncommonly  bad  time- 
keeper," I  remarked,  looking  at  my  watch. 

"  You  think  so  !  "  he  snapped  out.  "  It's  nothing 
of  the  sort." 

"  Well,  it  is  thirty- three  minutes  past,  and  your 
blooming  ticker  up  there  says  it's  five  minutes  to." 

"  What's  that  got  to  do  with  it  ?  "  he  retorted. 
*'  I  say  there  isn't  a  better  timekeeper  in  Ireland — 


I  MEET  MY  MATCH  191 

aud  that's  a  big  word — when  it's  goi)i.  What  right 
have  you  to  come  here  and  tell  me  my  clock  keeps  bad 
time,  when  it  is^i't  keeping  any  time  at  all  ?  " 

"  Well,  when  a  chap  looks  at  a  railway  station 
clock  he  naturally  supposes  that " 

"  Ah,  nonsins,  man  !  "  he  retorted,  jobbing  his 
pen  into  the  ink.  "  Supposes,  indeed  !  If  I  see  a 
man  stretched  on  that  bench  beyond  I  don't  suppose 
he's  drunk  till  he  gets  up  and  "  (as  a  matter  of  fact 
there  was  one)  "  ketch  him  staggerin\  You  can't 
pass  any  judgment  on  any  clock  '  till  it's  goin'.'  A 
fella  should  have  his  Avits  about  him  before  he  talks 
of  what  he  knows  nothin'  about."  And  he  fell  to  at 
his  writing  again. 

I  felt  extremely  wroth  and  rather  small,  so  1 
retorted — 

"  Some  of  us,  if  we  had  to  Uvc  by  our  wits, 
would  be  dead  long  ago." 

''  True  for  you.  Divil  a  lie  in  it,"  he  interjected 
without  looking  up  ;  "  an'  you  must  be  a  hardy  wan, 
seein'  you're  alive." 

I  tried  to  retreat  "  under  cover,"  so  to  speak,  by 
changing  the  subject. 

"  This  beastly  train  is  twenty  minutes  behind 
time,  anyhow.  What's  the  cause  of  it  ?  "  I  felt 
the  weakness  of  the  question  too  late  to  mend  it. 

"  Ask  me  an  asier  wan,"  he  answered.  "  Here 
she  is  now  !  You  can  inquire  from  the  guard  if  you 
want  particular  information  ;  but  if  it's  only  curiosity 


192  OMNI  AN  A 

it  would  be  bother  for  you  to  look  out  for  a  sate — 
ill  the  rush/' 

I  was  cowed,  humiliated  ;  but  his  advice  was 
sound.  Fortunately  for  myself,  I  took  it,  and,  with 
difficulty,  secured  a  place.  There  was  considerable 
commotion  and  delay,  caused  by  a  crowd  of  rough  and 
smooth,  drunk  and  sober,  crushing  in  at  every  door. 

"  We're  full  inside,*'  I  shouted  as  a  big  pig  jobber 
jumped  on  to  the  step,  and  tried  to  open  the  door. 

"  Aye,  and  some  full  outside  too  !  "  I  recognised 
the  voice  of  the  station-master  as  he  pulled  the  man 
off.  "  Gup  to  the  other  end  of  the  train  ower  this  ! 
Mebbe  it's  a  fust  class  you  want  ?  " 

"  There's  no  room  at  the  other  end,  sir.  There's 
my  ticket.  I  ped  my  money,  and  you're  bound  to 
cany  me,"  said  the  pig  jobber. 

''  Carry  you,  is  it  'i  The  divil  carry  you  !  Where 
arc  you  for  ?  " 

"  Dublin,  sir." 

"  Here,  Joe,"  to  a  passing  and  bewildered  porter, 
"  shove  him  into  the  van,  for  God's  sake,  and  have 
done  with  him." 

"  Sheehan  is  a  bit  of  a  crank,  sir.  He  won't  take 
him  in." 

"  He  must  take  him  in.  He  can't  refuse  if  you 
stick  a  label  on  him,  and  shove  him  in  as  luggage. 
Hurry  up !  " 

Here  1  lost  sight  of  the  three  ;  and,  in  a  few 
minutes,  we  were  off. 


AN  AMERICAN  TOURIST  193 

I  DETERMINED  to  renew  my  acquaintance  with 
that  station-master — a  man  of  my  own  kidney, 
worth  cultivating.  I  did  so,  a  year  or  so  later, 
on  his  promotion  to  K — —  Junction,  where  I  got 
into  a  compartment  in  which  were  seated  an  American 
family  fresh  from  the  States.  "  Poppa "  was,  as 
usual,  an  aggressive  and  talkative  specimen  of  his 
race  ;  and,  he  went  for  me  at  once,  as  soon  as  he 
found  me  seated  opposite  to  him. 

"  You  hve  'bout  here,  stranger  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't.  I  live  a  good  many  miles 
away." 

"  Waal — you  air  Irish,  anyhow." 

This  was  an  insulting  way  of  putting  it,  and  I 
resented  his  impudence  ;  for  it  was  as  much  as  to  say 
that  I  had  a  brogue,  which,  of  course,  being  a  Kerry- 
man,  was  hardly  likely  ;  so,  I  retorted,  with  some 
heat — 

"  Yes,  and  you're  an  American." 

"  Guess — that — is — so,"  he  replied,  with  measured 
complacency,  looking  me  up  and  down  ;  then  after  a 
pause,  during  which  he  threw  one  leg  over  the  other, 
he  started  again.  "  I  reckon  you've  this  Home  Rule 
business  fixed  up  right  this  time,  stranger." 

"No,"  I  said.     "  We  haven't  got  it  yet,  to  begin 

with.     No    use    counting    chickens    before    they're 

hatched." 

"  Waal,  John  Rcdmon'  went  cluckin'  around  the 

o 


194  OMNIANA 

States  some,  anyhow— same  as  an  old  hen  after 
layin'  ;  and  now,  Asqiiith's  a-settin'  on  the  egg 
a-hatchin'  of  it.    That's  so,  ain't  it  ?  "  * 

"  It  may  be  addled,  after  all,"  I  retorted.  "  Wait 
and  see." 

He  looked  at  me  again.  "  What  air  your  poUtics, 
Mister  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  want  particularly  to  know,  I'm  a 
Conservativc-Nationalist-Protestant,"  I  said,  as  I 
endeavoured  to  freeze  up. 

He  was  staggered  a  bit.  "  Guess  that's  raythur 
mixed,  ain't  it  ?  "  he  queried,  stroking  his  chin 
meditatively. 

I  nodded.  He  soon  returned  to  the  charge  ;  and 
the  rest  of  the  family,  consisting  of  a  wife,  a  sister-in- 
law,  and  four  children,  joined  in — sometimes  taking 
it  in  turn,  and  sometimes  all  together.  My  attempt 
at  freezing  up  was  an  abject  failure,  because  things 
got  so  animated  and  warm,  that  I  had,  perforce,  to 
thaw  ;  and  I  soon  found  myself  filling  the  position 
of  a  sort  of  second-hand  Cook's  Tourist  Guide  without 
the  frogged  frock  coat,  and  the  cap  which  lends 
dignity  to  the  genuine  article. 

The  conversation  spread,  and  developed  into 
particulars  more  or  less  interesting,  as  to  the  difference 
between  the  two  Continents,  and  the  superiority  of 
Ammurrica,  in  many  ways,  over  U-rope,  and  might 
have  gone  on  indefinitely  had  not  "  Poppa  "  put  a 

*  Thib  was  in  1912. 


AN   IRATE  OFFICIAL  195 

stop  to  it  by  suddenly  ejaculating,  as  we  pulled  up  at 
the  next  station — 

"  Darned,  if  this  ain't  K !     This  is  K , 

Mister  ?  " 

He  let  down  the  window  with  a  bang,  and  poking 
his  head  out,  shouted  to  the  guard,  gesticulating 
violently — bald-headed  and  hatless. 

"  Say,  sir,  I  must  see  the  station-master,  right 
away  !  " 

"  You  can't.     We  only  stop  a  minnit." 

"  Waal !  I  won't  go  without,"  said  he,  jumping 
out,  "  that's  a  fact." 

"  Then  you'll  have  to  wait  for  the  night  mail. 
The  station-master  is  engaged  down  at  the  other  end. 
See  him  beyond,  shakin'  his  fists  ?  " 

"  Call  him  up.     It's  most  pertikler." 

"  Poppa's "  insistence  was  so  great  that  the 
guard,  thinking  that  there  might  be  something  in  it, 
yielded,  and  sent  a  passing  porter  top  speed  to  fetch 
the  official  up,  while  "  Poppa "  stepped  in  again 
and  waited. 

"  What's  up  ?  "  inquired  the  full-blooded,  panting 
station-master  as  he  arrived. 

"  Yankee  gent  wants  to  see  you,  sir  ;  that's  him 
with  the  big  head,  waving  the  umbrella." 

"  Well,  sir,  what  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  This  is  K- station,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Can't  you  read  that  signboard  ?  " 

The  American  ignored  the  question,  and  asked 


l'J6  OMNIANA 

aiiotlier.  "  You  are  Mister  B — ■ — ,  the  station- 
master  (  " 

"  Yes — eoniouiid  it — don't  be  keeping  tiie  train/' 

"  You  were  aequainted  with  Joe  Murphy,  of 
Detroit  ?  *' 

"  Oh  yes  !  He  left  this  country  two  years  ago. 
Is  he  dead — or  what  ?     Look  ahve  !  " 

"  Waal,  no.  He  ain't  dead  ;  but  he  said  to  me, 
in  contidence,  when  I  was  startin'  on  this  tower- — 
and  they  were  his  last  words  at  parting  '  When  you 
get  to  Ireland,'  he  says,  '  you  be  sure  to  look  out  for 

B ,  at  K station,  and  don't  go  by  on  no 

account  without  seein'  him.'  Let  me  have  the 
pleasure  of  shakin'  hands  with  you,  Mister  B- — ■ — . 
I'm  vurry  pleased  indeed  to  make  your  acquaintance. 

'  For,'  says  Joe  Murphy  to  me,  '  B^ is  notoriously 

the  worst-tempered  railway  official  in  the  whole  of 
Ireland.'  Ta-ta !  "  and  he  suddenly  bobbed  in, 
pulled  up  the  window,  and  gesticulated  politely  as  he 
sat  down. 

The   objurgations    hurled    at   *'  Poppa "    by    the 

infuriated  B were  of  a  lurid  character,  sufficiently 

violent,  one  would  have  thought,  to  shatter  the  glass. 
They  were  accompanied  by  a  statement  that,  only  the 
train  could  not  be  delayed,  he  would  "  have  pulled 
the  damned  Yankee  out  by  the  scruff  of  his  neck, 
and  smashed  every  bone  in  his  body." 

The  American  spat,  rubbed  his  palms  briskly 
along  his  legs,  and  laughed  consumcdly.     When  the 


A  FRIENDLY  OFFICIAL  197 

paroxysm  was  over  and  the  train  well  on  its  way, 
he  spat  again,  winked  at  his  eldest  boy,  and  re- 
marked, "  Had  that  old  cuss,  B — — ,  on  toast,  sonny. 
Eh?'' 

"  That's  so,  Poppa,"  was  the  response,  "  Reckon 
you  won't  come  back  this  rowt  anyhow." 

B has  gone  the  way  of  all  flesh  ;   and  that  he 

was  an  exceptional  man  is  beyond  all  doubt ;  for 
Irish  railway  officials  are,  as  a  rule,  most  accommo- 
dating and  obliging.  Here  is  a  case  in  point,  which 
won't  take  long  to  recount. 

I  arrived,  one  morning,  at  Kingsbridge,  expecting 
to  travel  south  by  the  mail  train,  at  6.40  from  Kings- 
town, which  always  has  a  breakfast  car  attached. 
There  was  a  break-down  of  some  sort  across  the  water, 
and  the  mail  boat  was  so  late  that  our  train  had  to 
be  sent  off  without  the  breakfast  car  and  mails,  which 
were  to  follow  by  a  "  special  "  later  on. 

In  over-due  time  I  found  myself  at  a  wayside, 
single-line,  branch  junction,  in  a  very  enfeebled  state 
from  hunger  and  the  long  journey  I  had  gone  througli. 
The  train  was  apparently  a  "  goods,"  run  in  the 
interests  of  Arthur  Guinness,  Sons  and  Co.  There 
was  only  one  (composite)  carriage,  and  only  one 
passenger — myself.  I  addressed  the  station-master, 
whom  I  remembered  as  a  worthy  man  recently  pro- 
moted from  the  position  of  head  porter  ;  and  who., 
in  that  position,  had  often  been  "  tipped  "  by  me. 
We  recognised  each  other,  though  we  neither  of  us 


198  OMNIANA 

"  let  on  "  to  do  so.  Leaning  out  of  the  carriage 
window,  I  said — 

"  Station-master"  (strongly  emphasising  the  word), 
"would  you  tell  me  if  there  is  any  chance  of  getting 
refreshments  here  ?  " 

"  ^Vhat  sort  of  refreshments,  surr  ?  " 

"  What  sort— oh,  well " 

"  Is  it  aitin'  or  drinkin'  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  if  it  comes  to  that' — both,  for  choice." 

"  Well,  surr,  there  isn't  any  choice  in  the  aitin'  ; 
but  you'll  get  plenty  of  choice  in  drinks — aquil  to 
any  in  Dubhn,  and  J.J.*  iv  the  very  best  brand,  in 
that  house  beyond,"  and  he  pointed  to  a  white- 
washed building,  distant  about  a  five  minutes'  walk. 

"  Even  a  drink  would  be  something  gained,"  I 
said,  ''  but  I  wouldn't  have  time.  This  train  is 
nearly  half  an  hour  late  as  it  is." 

"  Divil  a  matther,"  he  responded  encouragingly. 
"  Hurry  up.     You'll  have  lashins  iv  time." 

The  complaisant  guard,  the  green  flag  under  his 
arm,  opened  the  door,  and  politely  helped  me  out — 
thus  oflicially  accepting  the  situation.     I  hesitated. 

"  Don't  be  afeared,"  he  continued,  "  she  won't 
H\i\\\)  away  unknownst  to  me." 

"  But,  Station-master " 

"  Yorra,  man,"  he  insisted  famiharly,  "  be  said 
by  me  an'  run  !  Shure,  haven't  I  the  stnff  in  me 
hand,  and  Fll  liowld  it.     Oil  wid  you  now  !  " 

*  fiiirials  of  John  Jamofion  whisky. 


VAEIED  PROFESSIONAL  DUTIES       199 

I  ran  for  all  I  was  worth,  got  a  crust  of  bread, 
imbibed  a  most  refreshing  drink  of  Al  quahty,  and 
paid  for  two  more  to  await  consumption  later  on  by 
the  two  obliging  officials  ;  and  then  I  made  tracks  for 
the  train  at  top  speed. 

"  I'm  greatly  obliged  to  you,  Station-master,"  I 
said,  speaking  in  capitals,  and  shaking  hands  warmly 
as  I  jumped  into  my  carriage,  "  and,  I  say.  Station- 
master,  there's  a  J.J.  standing  to  both  your  credits 
when  you  have  time  to  drop  in  and  take  it." 

"  More  power,  surr  !  Here  you  are,  Tim,"  ex- 
changing his  staff  with  the  engine  man.  "  Buckle 
too,  my  hearty  boy,  an'  drive  the  divil  out  of  her^ — 
the  gentleman  is  in  a  hurry." 

The  green  flag  was  raised,  the  whistle  sounded, 
and  then — clash — bump — clash — bump — bump — as 
each  waggon  got  in  touch  with  its  neighbour  and 
resented  the  contact ;  then  we  were  off. 


IT  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  say  how  many 
old  churches  I  have  had  to  deal  with  in  the  adding 
of  chancels,  transepts,  side  aisles,  etc.,  removals 
of  plaster  ceihngs,  loose  boxes,  and  three-decker 
pulpits.  I  remember  a  case  in  which  these  loose 
boxes  were  removed.  All  old  fittings  were  the  pro- 
perty of  the  contractor,  who  arranged  a  sale  on  market 


200  OMNIANA 

day,  and  put  up  some  of  the  old  panelling  to  auction, 
which,  when  sold,  had  to  be  disinfected  with  holy 
water.  The  Incumbent  was  a  pronounced  anti- 
Roman  Catholic  and  Orangeman,  which  may  have 
contributed  to  this  result.  In  another  case  where 
single  pews  had  been  substituted  for  the  loose  boxes, 
a  parishioner  was  furious  because  he  had  been  given 
a  seat  behind  instead  of  in  front  of  a  particular  man 
who  was  obnoxious  to  him.  The  churchwardens 
declined  to  make  a  change,  so  on  the  re-opening  day 
he  put  in  an  appearance,  and,  seizing  the  man  in 
front  by  the  back  of  the  neck,  pulled  him  over  and 
*■  wired  in  "  till  the  pohce  had  to  be  called  to  the 
rescue,  with  the  result  that  a  fine  was  inflicted  for 
assault,  and  this  worthy  Christian  took  himself  of! 
to  another  church. 

I  remember  when  the  offertory  in  many  of  the 
country  churches  was  collected  in  a  long-handled 
warming-pan  sort  of  thing,  which  enabled  the  collector 
to  reach  the  farthest  occupant  of  a  pew  without 
stepping  off  the  aisle.  But  in  some  cases  this  was 
varied,  for  in  Killenumery  church,  for  instance,  where 
a  good  old  man — the  Eev.  Mr.  LucaS' — was  Incumbent, 
a  common  willow-pattern  soup  plate  did  duty  instead 
of  the  long-handled  arrangement. 

My  first  official  visit  to  Swanhbar  Church  was 
on  an  Orange  anniversary.  I  found  the  sacred 
edifice  decorated  with  four  flags  on  the  tower,  and 
ventured    on    a    mild    remark    as    to    the   want    of 


PARSON   LAWDER— COLONET.   KEOOH    201 

brotherly  love  and  Christian  charity  evinced  by  such 
a  display. 

"  Why  don't  you,"  I  said  to  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Lawder,  "  lock  the  door  and  put  a  stop  to  this  sort 
of  thing  ?  " 

"  Ah,  my  dear  boy,"  he  rephed,  "  you  are  young, 
fresh  from  England,  and  very  green — which  is  the 
wrong  colour.  You'll  be  wiser  after  a  bit.  The  door 
would  be  smashed  in  a  brace  of  shakes  ;  and  if  I  was 
found  with  my  back  against  it  I'd  have  my  head 
smashed  too." 

If  I  didn't  get  to  be  wiser,  as  he  predicted,  I  soon 
got  to  know  more,  anyhow  ;  but  I  remained  un- 
regenerate  in  this  respect ;  for  some  years  later,  when 
the  one  Killeshandra  baker  died,  having  a  respect 
for  the  worthy  man,  whose  Roman  Catholic  bread  I 
(and  for  the  matter  of  that  the  local  Orangemen) 
had  been  eating,  took  it  into  my  head  to  go  to  his 
funeral.  This  caused  some  bad  blood,  which  grew 
worse  when  latei-  I  got  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with 
Father  O'Reilly,  the  parish  priest.  But  my  dehn- 
quencies  were  overlooked  in  the  excitement  caused 
by  the  Government  sending  to  reside  among  us  a 
Resident  Magistrate  who  was  a  Protestant  Home 
Ruler — Colonel  Keogh,  of  Kilbride,  Co.  Carlow,  one  of 
the  kindliest,  most  upright,  and  fearless  of  men,  who 
made  no  secret  of  his  opinions,  while  he  dealt  out 
justice  with  even-handed  impartiality. 

He  was  a  bit  taciturn — given  at  times  to  "  brilhant 


202  OMNIANA 

flashes  of  silence."  I  remember  a  symposium  of 
males  was  in  full  swing,  one  evening,  at  his  hospitable 
board.  The  question  of  disestablishment  of  the 
Irish  Church  was  hotly  debated.  He  sat,  silent,  at 
the  head  of  his  table,  till  rallied  by  Captain  George 
de  la  Poer  Beresford,  son  of  the  Bishop  of  Kilmore 
(afterwards  Primate),  who  wanted  to  know  what  his 
host  was  thinking  about. 

"  Well,  George,"  he  rephed,  "  I  was  trying  to  find  a 
reason  for  the  existence  of  the  Church  of  Ireland." 

"  That's  interesting,"  said  the  Captain,  "  have  you 
solved  it,  old  man  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion,"  slowly  responded 
the  Colonel,  "  that  it  was  estabhshed  solely  for  the 
benefit  of  the  Beresford  family." 

The  reply  amused  everybody,  and  no  one  more 
than  the  Captain. 

"  By  Jove,"  he  said,  "  T  must  tell  that  to  the 
Governor  :  he'll  be  delighted." 

Doubtless  he  did  tell  it ;  and  doubtless,  also,  the 
Bishop  enjoyed  it,  as  he  was  a  prelate  with  a  large 
sense  of  the  humorous.  The  point  lay  in  the  fact 
that  the  Colonel's  pronouncement  had  plausibility  to 
recommend  it — so  many  episcopal  and  other  plums 
had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  Beresfords,  and  their 
relatives  the  de  la  Poers,  Trenchs,  and  others,  to  say 
nothing  of  their  mihtary,  civil,  and  pohtical  appoint- 
ments— a  list  of  which  would  fill  a  big  book. 


ROSBEIGH   CASTLE  203 

ONE  of  my  early  Kerry  experiences  was  this : 
The  Hon.  Rowland  Wynn  had  had  a  very 
picturesque  castle  built  at  Rosbeigh,  designed 
by  Godwin.  But  as  it  let  in  the  rain  in  quantities 
through  walls  and  roofs,  it  was  not  habitable.  Godwin 
and  his  partner,  Crisp,  tried  several  times  to  put  things 
right,  without  success,  and  ultimately  "  gave  it  up 
as  a  bad  job."  I  was  called  in.  My  ultimatum  was 
that  a  large  sum  should  be  expended,  and  that  I 
should  nominate  my  own  foreman  of  works,  and  have 
complete  control.  I  was  asked,  by  Mr.  Wynn,  to 
sign  a  guarantee  as  to  cure.  I  signed  it — no  cure,  no 
pay^ — his  intention  being  to  take  an  action  against 
the  architects  in  the  event  of  my  success,  or  against 
me  if  I  failed.  A  man  named  Isaac  Abraham,  who 
deserves  honourable  mention,  was  the  foreman ; 
and  curiously  enough,  the  Incumbent  of  a  neighbour- 
ing parish  was  Abraham  Isaac  !  *  An  action  was 
entered  against  Godwin  and  Crisp  for  the  cost  of  my 
successful  repairs.  The  case  was  to  be  tried  at 
Tralee.  The  late  Lord  Justice  Fitzgibbon  (then  a 
Q.C.)   was  leading  Counsel    for  Mr.   Wynn.     There 

*  This  brings  to  my  recollection  the  fact  that  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Anne  there  were  two  members  of  Parliament,  one  named  Matthew 
Montague,  and  the  other  Montague  Matthew.  When  a  speech  by  the 
first  was  attributed  to  the  second,  the  latter  objected  ;  and  a  suggestion 
that  it  7nade  no  difference  he  met  by  the  response  that  it  did — "  all  the 
difference  between  a  horse  chestnut  and  a  chestnut  horse  " — or,  as  Mr. 
Shandy  says  to  Uncle  Toby,  "  lietween  an  old  cocked  hat,  and  a  cocked 
old  hat." 


204  OMNIANA 

was  much  professional  speculation  as  to  the  result ; 
but  the  defendants  caved  in,  and  the  trial  never 
came  off. 

Fitzgibbon  was  subsequently  advanced  to  the 
Bench,  and  died  Lord  Justice  of  Appeal.  His  statue 
stands  in  St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  and  his  name  is 
honoured  by  the  profession  which  he  adorned.  He 
had  a  special  aptitude  for  unravelling  intricate  building 
cases.  I  remember  one  that  occupied  the  courts  for 
a  considerable  time,  and  gave  rise  to  articles  and 
letters  in  the  Press,  suggesting  the  advisability  of 
having  "  experts "  to  sit  with  the  judges.  He 
was  a  client  of  mine  ;  and,  as  I  wanted  to  know  what 
he  thought  of  the  idea,  I  asked  him. 

"  Experts,"  he  said.  "  Good  Heavens,  no  !  It's 
bad  enough  to  have  them  in  a  witness-box.  Why, 
architectural,  engineering,  and  medical  experts  will 
swear  black  is  white  and  believe  it.  I'll  back  them 
to  obscure  the  issue  against  any  number  of  common- 
sense  witnesses."' 

His  opinion  was  that  the  tendency  of  "  expert " 
evidence  is,  to  nuiddle  a  jury,  and  defeat  the  ends  of 
justice  by  procuring  a  disagreement. 

I  recall  a  case  in  point — from  Newcastle,  in  Co. 
Down- — which  occupied  the  attention  of  the  Master 
of  the  Rolls.  At  the  conclusion  of  the  evidence  he 
declared  his  utter  inabihty  to  make  head  or  tail  of  the 
conflicting  "  expert "  evidence  ;  and  suggCvSted  to 
C'ounsel  that  they  should  agree  to  the  Court  sending 


*-*,»»*ikaSN.    "^^ 


-«^**. 


pacsimit.e  of  i.ord  justice  fitzgibbon's  handwriting. 


I'liiilo:  Werner  &  Son,  Dublin. 

LOHI)    JUSTICE   FITZGIBBON. 


LORD  JUSTICE   FITZGIBBON  205 

its  own  architect,  to  inspect,  report,  and  give  indepen- 
dent testimony.  This  was  agreed  to.  I,  as  official 
architect  to  the  Benchers  of  the  King's  Inns,  was 
deputed  accordingly  ;  and,  on  my  sworn  statement, 
the  juiy  found  a  verdict.  But,  all  the  same,  this 
instance  does  not  support  the  contention  of  the  Lord 
Justice,  because — quite  apart  from  its  value  or 
worthlessness — my  evidence  was,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  "  expert "  evidence.  The  only  difference 
of  opinion  he  and  I  ever  had  was  on  the  completion 
of  his  residence  on  the  Hill  of  Howth.  I  proposed  to 
finish  the  ridges  and  hips  of  roofs  in  tiles  set  in  cement. 
He  would  not  listen  to  this— too  shabby  looking — 
must  have  lead.  "  Very  well,"  1  said  ;  *'  lead  won't 
stand  a  Howth  gale,  no  matter  how  thick  or  how  Avell 
secured,  it  will  be  torn,  blown  about  and  twisted, 
and  rain  will  be  driven  in."  He  had  his  way  ;  but, 
ultimatel}^  I  had  mine.  In  the  Life  of  Lord  Randolph 
Churchill,  by  his  son,  will  be  found  a  good  deal  about 
the  genial  and  brilliant  Lord  Justice  and  the  social 
gatherings  at  this  hospitable  mansion. 

Of  course,  an  architect  is  more  or  less  dependent 
on  builders  for  the  successful  execution  of  his  work  ; 
and  few  men  have  been  more  fortunate  than  I  in 
this  respect.  The  vast  majority  of  Irish  contractors 
are  capable  and  upright,  taking  an  intelHgent  interest 
in  their  w^ork.  Only  in  one  instance  had  I  to  deplore 
the  loss  of  a  life  from  want  of  foresight.  During  my 
absence,  the    underpinning  of    an  old  buttress  was 


206  OMNIANA 

begun  without  tlie  precaution  of  strutting  it,  the 
result  being  that  it  fell  and  killed  a  child.  Expert 
evidence,  into  which  I  need  not  enter,  got  the  con- 
tractor out  of  his  difficulty  at  the  inquest ;  and,  as 
the  child  was  illegitimate,  an  action  for  compensation 
could  not  be  maintained.  He,  however,  made  a 
voluntary  payment  to  the  mother. 

And,  now  that  I  have  started  "  talking  shop," 
perhaps  it  would  be  as  well  that  I  finished  off  the 
subject.  I  fully  expect  that  my  methods  of  business 
(improperly  so  called)  will  be  a  revelation  to  my 
professional  brethren. 

"  The  most  ingenious  way  of  becoming  foohsh," 
says  the  philosophic  Shaftesbury,  "  is  by  a  system." 
I  ran  no  risks  in  this  direction,  and  early  discarded 
all  system.  But,  I  must  go  back  a  bit,  and  "  begin 
at  the  beginning." 

After  Gladstone  disestabhshed  the  Irish  Church 
and  the  Ecclesiastical  Commissioners,  I,  being  an 
official  of  the  latter,  was  disestabhshed  with  it ; 
and  had  to  start  afresh.  I  came  to  Dubhn,  a 
derehct ;  and,  with  all  my  live  belongings,  was 
most  hospitably   taken   in   by   my   life-long  friend, 

F S (who  is,  I  rejoice   to  say,  still  alive), 

and  his  charming  sister,  at  great  inconvenience  to 
both  of  them,  while  he  and  I  went  house  hunting. 
At  last,  I  settled  down  in  the  suburbs,  and,  nearly 
half  a  century  ago,  opened  this  office  in  town. 

Coming  in  every  morning,  I  met,  in  the  smoking 


A  FRIENDLY  BANK  MANAGER        207 

carriage,  among  those  with  whom  I  scraped  acquaint- 
ance, one  man  in  particular,  who  became  "  chummy," 
and  with  whom  I  talked,  as  to  my  professional 
prospects,  etc.     One  day  he  said — 

"  We  don't  know  one  another's  names,  though  we 
have  met  every  morning  for  some  time.  Suppose 
we  exchange  cards  " — which  was  done. 

I  saw  that  he  was  a  Mr.  Power,  Manager  of  the 
National  Bank.     As  we  were  getting  out,  he  said' — 

"  Look  here,  old  chap,  you  are  a  young  man, 
making  a  start — where  do  you  bank  ?  " 

"  Bank  !  "  I  said,  "  I  don't  want  one.  I've  just 
got '  ready  '  enough  to  go  on  with  for  a  while — that's 
all." 

"  Well,"  he  replied,  shaking  hands,  "  call  round 
and  see  me  to-day,  and  I'll  give  you  a  cheque-book, 
and  honour  your  cheques  up  to  £500  "  ;  and  he  was 
off  before  I  had  time  to  thank  him.  His  offer  struck 
me  as  most  magnanimous  ;  and,  it  would  have  been 
"  grateful  and  comforting "  if  I  could,  with  any 
certainty,  have  attributed  it  to  a  recognition  of  that 
latent  merit  in  which  I  beheved  ;  and  I  was  inclined  to 
apply,  as  a  sop  to  my  vanity,  the  words  of  Thackeray  : 
"  Nature  has  written  a  letter  of  credit  on  some  men's 
"  faces,  which  is  honoured  whenever  presented  "  ; 
but  I  felt,  when  I  came  to  think  it  over,  that  a  bank- 
letter  of  credit,  to  the  tune  of  £500,  had  something 
more  than  "  face  value."  No  doubt.  Power  had  made 
some  inquiry  before  his  liberal  offer  to  befriend  me. 


208  (3MNIANA 

J3e  that  as  it  may,  1  have  banked  with  the  National 
ever  since  ;  and  Frank  Power  went  over  to  the 
majority  long  ago,  without  having  to  regret  his 
confidence,  in  my  case.  He  had  a  son  Frank,  I 
remember,  who  was  rapidly  making  a  name  for  himself 
as  a  brilliant  war  correspondent,  when  his  career  was 
disastrously  cut  short,  with  General  Gordon's,  at 
Khartoum. 

But,  to  resume.  For  over  half  a  century  I  carried 
on  successfully  a  very  extensive  practice  as  an 
architect ;  and,  during  the  whole  of  that  time,  I 
violated — or  rather,  persistently  disregarded,  all  the 
conventional  rules  which  are  supposed  to  be  inseparable 
from  success  ;  and,  moreover,  1  conducted  that  large 
business  without  a  hitch  as  to  ofi&ce  routine,  and  to 
t  he  uniform  satisfaction  of  my  clients.  A  few  months 
after  opening  my  offices  1  discarded  the  regulation 
copying-press  and  the  regulation  letter-book.  In 
fact  1  never  possessed  the  former,  though  I  did  for  a 
time  possess  the  latter,  which  was  supposed  to  be 
"  posted  up  ""  and  indexed  regularly  ;  but  one  was 
no  use  without  the  other.  The  "  correct "  thing  to 
do  with  letters  received,  was  to  preserve,  docket,  and 
to  pigeon-hole  them,  in  the  case  of  each  separate 
client ;  whereas  nine  out  of  ten  of  them  went  into 
my  waste-paper  basket  inmiediately  after  receipt. 
I  only  preserved,  till  the  finish  of  the  particular 
business  in  hand,  tho.sc  that  1  thought  hkely  to 
be  ncccssar}-.    1  used  my  own  discretion  ^\ith  regard 


BUSINESS  HABITS  209 

to  letters  written   by   myself,   only   keeping   copies 
of  a  few. 

Once  I  suffered  by  over  confidence  in  a  contractor 
for  house  sewerage  laid  down  during  my  absence  in 
Kerry.  Perhaps  it  was  luck  that  kept  me  out  of 
business  complications  with  builders  and  clients,  and 
outside  the  law  courts.  But  my  confessions  would  be 
incomplete  without  other  astonishing  admissions.  I 
hardly  expect  to  be  beUeved  when  I  say  that,  in 
issuing  cheques,  I  never  troubled  to  fill  in  the  corre- 
sponding counterfoils- — nevertheless,  the  fact  remains. 
The  useless  blocks  accumulated  to  such  an  extent 
that,  at  last,  I  quite  recently  made  up  jny  mind  to 
destroy  them.  At  the  end  of  every  year  the  Bank 
returns  the  cheques  themselves  ;  and,  from  some 
conservative  instinct,  I  have  preserved  these,  though 
I  never  have  had  any  occasion  to  refer  to  them.  How 
do  I  know  how  I  stand  ?  Well,  all  the  information 
I  want  I  get  from  the  debit  and  credit  account  in  my 
Bank  Book  from  time  to  time — therefore  why  worry  ? 

A  resolution  I  came  to  when  I  opened  my  office, 
and  have  rigorously  adhered  to,  was  to  destroy,  the 
moment  after  reading,  every  letter  marked  private. 
It  seemed  to  me  in  the  highest  degree  treacherous 
and  dishonourable  to  preserve  and  produce  such 
letters  to  the  detriment  of  the  writers.  This  may  be 
quite  a  mistaken  notion  on  my  part,  since  it  runs 
counter  to  the  prevailing  practice  ;  but,  nevertheless, 
it  was  a  great  satisfaction  to  me,  on  two  occasions, 

p 


210  OMNIANA 

when  a  judge  made  an  "  order  for  discovery  of 
documents,"  that  no  letters  marked  private  were 
extant  in  my  keeping  ;  and  that,  if  sohcitors  and 
counsel  were  out  for  hitting  below  the  belt  they  got 
no  aid  from  me. 

A  brother  professional  man  wrote  a  book  years 
ago  on  business  and  how  to  run  an  office.  I  didn't 
buy  it — there  was  no  need  ;  for  it  recommended,  to  a 
dead  certainty,  everything  that  I  failed  to  do,  and  so 
I  did  not  "  bother  my  head  "  about  it. 

I  kept  no  ledgers,  or  books  of  any  sort :  I  could  not 
see  the  least  necessity  for  them.  An  architect's  fees 
are,  legally,  5  per  cent,  on  the  outlay  ;  and  the 
amount  of  them  was  always  easily  ascertainable, 
from  the  sum  total  of  the  builder's  contract,  in  each 
case,  and  checked  by  the  counterfoils  of  my  certificate 
book  of  payments  on  account.  In  addition  to  fees, 
travelling  expenses  had  to  be  charged,  and  these, 
with  the  dates  of  the  journeys,  were  noted  in  a  diary 
lying  on  my  desk  ;  so  that  there  was  never  any 
difficulty  in  making  out  the  bill.  There  are  other 
charges  which  an  architect  is  legally  justified  in 
making,  but  which  a  client  always  resists,  or  grumbles 
at — charges  for  tentative  sketches  or  discarded  plans. 
No  man  likes  to  pay  for  what  he  finds  he  does  not 
want  and  does  not  use  ;  and  I  have  always  been 
extremely  lenient  in  my  demands  under  these  heads. 
Moreover  I  believe  that,  on  the  whole,  I  have  gained 
thereby,  rather  than  lost,  because  the  parting  good 


LORD   LEITRIM  211 

will  of  a  cKent  is  an  asset  of  much  ulterior  value.  This 
complacency  on  my  part  does  not  necessarily  there- 
fore imply  undue  weakness  or  a  tendency  to  "  knuckle 
under."  All  the  same,  my  temper  is  not  too 
good  ;  and,  when  I  get  my  back  up,  fireworks  occur 
occasionally. 

The  third  Lord  Leitrim  was  a  client  of  mine. 
When,  at  his  request,  I  sent  him  my  first  account, 
he  replied  in  something  like  the  following  words  :• — 

"  Sir, 

"  Your  bill  appears  to  me  excessive,  and  I 
"  must  demur  to  it. 

"  Yours  truly, 

"  Leitrim." 

I  replied  as  follows,  as  nearly  as  I  can  remember  : — 

**  My  Lord, 

"  I  enclose  a  printed  document  showing 
"  the  professional  scale  of  charges  authorised  by 
"  the  Institutes  of  Architects  in  London,  Dubhn, 
"  and  Edinburgh,  together  with  a  revised  bill  of 
"  my  amended  claim  in  accordance  therewith. 
"  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

"  Your  Lordship's  obedient  Servant, 
"  J.  F.  Fuller." 

The  new  claim  was  nearly  double  the  original  one  ! 
By  return  post  I  got — zvithovt  a  letter — a  cheque  for 


212  OMNI  ANA 

the  larger  amount.  I  sent  him  a  receipt/or  the  orlgwaJ 
demand,  with  a  cheque  for  the  balance  of  his,  and  also 
without  a  letter,  concluding  that  there  would  ].)e  an 
end  of  our  business  relations.  I  was  wi'ong.  Some 
time  afterwards  I  heard  his  step  on  my  office  stairs — 
a  peculiar  step,  as  he  was  lame. 

Opening  the  door,  I  said,  "  Hello,  my  lord  !  I 
didn't  expect  to  see  you  here  again." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  replied,  coming  in.  "  You  arc 
much  too  impulsive^ — much  too  impulsive." 

"  Well,"  I  retorted,  "  that's  just  the  fault  I  had 
to  find  with  you." 

We  ended  by  becoming  the  best  of  friends  for 
several  years.  I  was  with  him  on  business  at  Lough 
Rynn  in  Leitrim,  early  in  1878  ;  and,  when  leaving, 
arranged  to  meet  him  at  his  other  seat  in  Donegal, 
for  which  place  he  was  starting  immediately.  I 
never  saw  him  again.  He  was  barbarously  murdered 
the  following  week  ;  and,  the  day  after  his  death— 
wliich  I  saw  reported  in  the  morning  papers — I  found 
a  letter  awaiting  me  in  his  handwriting,  nuiking  an 
appointment.  This  was  written  on  the  morning  of 
the  very  day  on  which  he  was  murdered. 

On  another  occasion  I  was  acting  as  architect  on 
the  building  of  a  mansion  for  a  retired  military  client. 
The  contractor  asked  for,  and  obtained,  my  per- 
mission to  use  pitch  pine  instead  of  red  pine,  in  certain 
portions  of  the  work.  Though,  at  the  time,  pitch 
pine  happened  to  be  the  more  expensive  timber,  the 


A  TROUBLESOME  CLIENT  213 

contractor  had  it  in  stock,  and  made  no  extra  charge. 
The  cHent  objected,  as  red  pine  was  specified.  I 
carried  my  point.  The  next  hitch  was  in  reference 
to  iron  girders,  which  were  to  be  of  a  certain  Firm's 
make.  The  contractor  wrote  to  say  he  could  get 
these  more  quickly  from  another  Firm.  I  repUed 
to  "  use  them  if  they  arc  of  the  weight  and  section 
specified  and  are  therefore  equal  to  the  work  they 
have  to  do."  I  found  they  were  in  excess  of  the 
bearing  power  required.  When  they  were  delivered 
on  the  site,  the  cHent  objected  as  before.  I  ignored 
his  objection,  and  he  then  plainly  insinuated  that  I 
was  acting  in  the  builder's  interest,  in  opposition  to 
his.  This  was  more  than  I  could  stand  ;  and  I  told 
him  to  find  another  architect  to  complete  his  job. 
I  was  asked,  by  letter,  to  reconsider  my  determination, 
but  I  declined.  My  own  solicitor  pressed  me  not  to 
be  rash,  and  insisted  on  getting  counsel's  "  opinion." 
That  opinion  was  adverse  ;  said  that  I  could  not 
legally  resign  ;  and,  if  I  did  so,  I  would  incur  this, 
that,  and  the  other  ;  but  my  limit  of  forbearance 
had  been  reached  ;  and  when  the  "  opinion  "  came  it 
came  too  late.  In  any  event,  it  would  have  been 
ignored,  be  the  consequences  what  they  might.* 

I  do  not  advise  young  professional  men  to  follow 
my  bad  example,  or  to  despise  routine.  There  is 
grave  risk  in  want  of  method,  no  doubt,  and,  if  a 
chap  takes  the  risk,  and  "  comes  a  croppci',"  he  has 

*  The  writer  of  that  "  opinion  "  is  now  our  Lord  Chancellor. 


214  OMNIANA 

no  one  to  blame  but  himself.  To  have  "  a  soul  above 
business  "  sounds  very  well  for  exalted  personages,  and 
authors,  who  haven't  got  to  live  by  it ;  but,  it  may  be 
a  far  more  laudable  and  praiseworthy  thing  to  write 
up  a  ledger  correctly  with  the  most  commonplace  of 
steel  pens,  than  to  write  down  a  virtue  with  the  most 
inspired  quill,  as  some  literary  men — and  not  a  few 
women — are  in  the  habit  of  doing. 

Among  my  chents,  at  one  time,  was  a  multi- 
milhonaire,  who  had  been  made  a  lord.  Somehow, 
I  could  not  bring  myself  to  appraise  him  at  his  own 
valuation,  or  to  accept  him  as  a  super-man.  I 
labelled  him  as  something  quite  different.  He  had 
long  been  acclaimed  a  philanthropist  because  of  some 
large  gifts  for  the  benefit  of  the  proletariat — gifts 
which  secured  a  title,  and  affected  his  bank  balance 
as  much  as  a  drop  taken  from  the  ocean  affects 
its  volume.  We  rubbed  along  for  three  or  four  years, 
till  the  friction  became  too  acute,  and  then  we 
drifted  apart.  It  was  my  fault  no  doubt,  and  it  was 
not  wise  from  a  worldly  point  of  view.  He  hves  and 
flourishes  ;   so,  nothing  matters. 

The  choicest  of  all  vulgar  distinctions  is  to  have 
plenty  of  "  tin  "  ;  and,  the  millionaire,  as  a  conse- 
quence, becomes  an  object  of  veneration — a  "  tin 
god."  Money  talks,  they  say  in  America.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  "  money  shouts  while  birth  and  breed- 
ing whisper,"  and  it  is  the  only  Esperanto  which  we 
can  all  understand.     The  plutocrat,  who  is  not  of  the 


MILLIONAIEES  215 

"  upper  ten,"'  can  count  on  a  brand-new  peerage  to 
give  him  p..  "  leg  up."  Small  wonder  if  he  values 
himself  in  proportion  to  the  social  servility  which  he 
commands.  If  the  crowd  worships,  why  should  he 
not  pose  as  a  deity,  with  a  coronet  for  his  aureole  ? 
I  fancy  indications  are  not  wanting  that  there  is  a 
rough  time  ahead  for  the  mere  millionaire.  When 
the  empty  individual  comes  face  to  face  with  the  one 
who  is  over-gorged,  when  the  man  with  too  little 
discovers  his  own  power,  and  drives  the  man  with  too 
much,  into  a  corner,  the  latter  will  be  hit  below  the 
belt  and  have  the  stuffing  knocked  out  of  him  with  a 
vengeance. 

I  may  appropriately  remark  here  that  the  race 
of  Fuller  has  had  its  milhonaire —William  Fuller, 
a  banker,  who,  walking  on  a  hot  day,  from  his  suburban 
residence  to  his  office,  always  put  a  pebble  into  his 
mouth  to  induce  the  secretion  of  saliva,  and  avert 
thirst,  by  which  means  he  saved  the  price  of  a  drink. 
He  lived  to  be  ninety-four,  when  his  two  daughters 
came  in  for  his  money.  It  is  nothing  new  to  say  that 
indigence  may  be  overcome  by  diligence,  and  that 
the  lack  of  worldly  goods  is  reparable  ;  but  poverty 
of  soul  is  chronic.  The  large-hearted,  like  the  poet, 
is  born,  not  made.  The  plutocrat  dies  "  worth," 
in  the  jargon  of  the  Stock  Exchange,  so  much  ;  and, 
if  nothing  more  can  be  said  in  his  favour,  a  quotation 
from  Bailey's  Festus  fits  : 

"  Only  the  gilding  makes  bis  death  consi)icuoub." 


216  OMNIANA 

One  is  prone  to  moralise,  or  sermonise,  on  tiie  lust 
of  riches,  and  whether  the  acquisition  brings  happiness. 
My  personal  experience  does  not  warrant  a  dogmatic 
pronouncement.  Some  poet  has  said  that  man  is  not 
necessarily  rich  because  "  he  cannot  count  his  store," 
but  rather  the  moderate  man  "  who  does  not  wish  for 
more  "  ;  and  one  recalls  the  words  of  Cicero  :  noji 
esse  cwpidum  pecunia  est,  which  ring  true.  Catherine 
Hyde  was  right  when,  in  writing  to  Swift  about  the 
ever  impecunious  Gay,  the  poet,  she  says  :  "He  is  a 
very  rich  man,  for  I  really  beheve,  he  has  no  wish  to 
be  richer." 

When  I  have  tried  my  hand  at  business  outside 
the  ambit  of  my  profession,  1  am  bound  to  admit  that 
I  have  often  made  a  sad  mess  of  it — in  investments,  for 
instance.  I  have  lost  money,  hand  over  hand,  where 
another  would  have  reaped  a  golden  harvest ;  but, 
I  have  never  allowed  losses  to  trouble  me  when  1 
found  they  were  not  recoverable  ;  and  I  beheve  that 
the  power  to  "  shed  "  one's  monetary  disappointments 
is  a  chief  asset  of  longevity.  But,  a  catalogue  of  my 
mishaps,  in  the  field  of  speculation,  would  hardly 
interest  the  reader  ;  one  of  them,  however,  may  be 
worth  recording. 

When  the  motor  craze  was  new,  and  at  fever  heat, 
some  twenty  years  ago,  a  most  flamboyant  prospectus 
appeared,  the  front  page  profusely  illustrated  with 
all  the  then  known  kinds  of  horseless  carriages. 
Arrangements  had  been  made,  pending  the  influx  of 


A   J3AD  SPECULATION  217 

cash,  to  purchase  all  the  patents  connected  with 
these  ;  and  then  there  was  to  be  a  practical  monopol}", 
with  golden  results — fabulous  dividends.  The  one 
man  behind  the  flotation,  well  known  to  the  fraternity 
of  "  that  ilk  "  (whose  name  would  act  as  a  deterrent 
to  any  but  greenhorns),  kept  dark  ;  and  the  green- 
horns, of  whom  I  was  one,  went  in  with  a  rush.  The 
motor  was  to  be  the  vehicle  of  the  future — of  that 
there  was  no  doubt ;  but,  it  never  struck  us  that  a 
monopol}^  was  out  of  the  question  :  we  could  not 
block  all  future  inventions,  and  the  consequent  forma- 
tion of  new  companies  to  exploit  them.  The  bubble 
burst,  like  the  skating  rink  bubble,  and  more  recently 
that  of  the  picture  theatres.  The  demand  produced 
a  plethora,  and  the  25  per  cent,  dividends  were  a 
memory  only.  Meanwhile  the  motor  company  pro- 
moter feathered  his  nest,  and  we  greenhorns  were 
plucked  bare— were,  in  fact,  "  had."  New  patents 
burst  us  up  in  no  time. 

Apropos  of  the  motor-car  as  a  permanent  institu- 
tion— however  obnoxious  in  many  respects,  and 
dangerous  to  life  and  limb — its  success  as  a  vehicle, 
appeals  to  me,  forcibly,  for  a  reason  which  will  not 
have  as  much  weight,  with  the  utilitarian  general 
pubHc,  as  it  has  with  a  mere  faddist  hke  myself.  I 
rejoice  because  it  bids  fair  to  give  the  coup  de  grace 
to  a  small  snobbery  which  is  rampant  in  the  United 
Kingdom — I  mean  the  display  of  the  coachman's 
pot  hat  with  the  cockade  on  it.     Possibly  there  arc 


218  OMNI  AN  A 

those  who,  possessing  motor-cars,  regret  that  the 
head-gear  of  the  motor-driver  who  has  superseded  the 
coachman,  does  not  lend  itself,  at  present,  to  the 
adoption  of  this  cockade  ;  but  there  is  no  knowing 
what  may  happen.  Up  to  now  every  citizen,  be  he  a 
professional  or  a  business  man,  or  a  civic  dignitary — 
"a  butcher,  a  baker,  or  candlestick  maker" — who 
o^vns  a  trap  and  pony  and  a  stable  boy,  keeps  a 
"  property  "  hat  with  a  cockade  on  it,  to  be  worn 
by  said  stable  boy  (during  his  tenure  of  office)  when 
driving  thi'ough  the  town  ;  and  (on  his  discharge)  to 
be  left  behind  for  his  successor. 

Probably  not  one  in  a  thousand  of  those  who  sport 
this  distinctive  badge,  has  any  right  to  do  so  ;  and  it 
is  a  question  of  right,  pui'c  and  simple.  There  arc 
two  cockades^ — the  army  one  and  the  naval  one — for 
officers  in  either  service.  The  military  cockade  is 
the  one  subject  to  abuse  and  degradation.  Royalty, 
the  representatives  of  royalty,  and  members  of  the 
peerage,  use  one  by  right,  to  distinguish  their  retainers ; 
and  a  commissioned  officer,  active  or  retired,  has  an 
ec[ual  right  to  decorate  his  servant's  hat  as  an  intima- 
tion that  the  master  is  a  military  man.  The  naval 
officer  has  a  like  privilege  and  for  a  similar  purpose. 
No  civihan — not  even  a  knight  as  such — has  any 
justification  for  its  use.  I  have  heard  of  a  person  who 
based  his  right  on  the  fact  that  he  was  a  member  of  the 
Army  and  Navy  Stores  !  In  "  the  good  old  times,"  if 
the  Heralds  discovered  a  man  displaying  a  bogus  coat 


HERALDIC   ABUSES  219 

of  arms  or  one  which  belonged  to  somebody  else,  they 
recorded  it  turned  upside  down  ;  and  if,  afterwards, 
they  found  it  on  his  carriage  panels,  they  had  the  power 
to  obliterate  it  in  summary  fashion.  Ulster  King  at 
Arms  has  that  power  still.  There  is  an  extant  Act  of 
Parhament  which  gives  him  authority  ;  but,  I  hardly 
expect  Captain  Wilkinson  to  exercise  it :  he  is  too 
tender-hearted  ;  and  I  fancy  he'd  have  more  than 
enough  to  do,  in  Dublin,  if  he  once  started  on  the 
enterprise.  Nevertheless,  I  dare  say  that,  from  a 
moral  standpoint,  it  is  quite  clear  to  him  that  a 
man  who  hasn't  got  heraldic  bearings,  has  no  more 
right  to  steal  mine  than  he  has  to  steal  my  money  or 
my  plate  ;  and  should  not  be  permitted  to  proclaim 
himself  a  military  or  naval  officer  when  he  isn't  one. 

But  I  doubt  if  Ulster  King  at  Arms  would  go  any 
fui'ther  than  making  this  admission.  He  has  the 
undoubted  power  to  give  a  man  a  legal  rigid  to  a  coat 
of  arms,  which  right  is  exercised  with  benefit  to  the 
Crown  in  the  shape  of  heavy  fees  which  go  into  the 
Exchequer.  This  would  logically  seem  to  imply 
that  the  Crown,  which  pockets  the  cash,  should  give 
the  grantee  redress  against  a  person  who  comes  along 
and  appropriates  this  identical  coat  of  arms.  Well, 
does  it  do  so  ?  If  it  was  an  old  coat  of  a  different 
description — a  garment  tattered  and  without  arms, 
which  a  delincjuent  had  annexed,  I  am  quite  certain 
that  either  of  the  worthy  metropolitan  magistrates 
would  administer  adequate  punishment ;    but  if  1 


220  OMNIANA 

were  to  ask  ior  a.  suinnions  against  a.  man  for  sporting 
my  "  ai'ins  "  on  his  brougham  or  motor-car,  I  fancy 
I'd  get  short  shrift  from  either  of  those  magistrates. 

It  is  triu^  1  did  not  pay  any  fee  for  my  coat  of 
arms.  It  is  several  hundred  years  old  ;  *  and,  Hke 
wine,  age  has  enhanced  its  value  to  me.  Why,  then, 
should  some  plutocrat  who  could  not,  or  would  rather 
not,  tell  who  his  grandmother  was,  be  allowed  to 
"  pinch  ""  my  "  coat  "  and  sport  it  on  his  motor  ? 
I  say  it  is  scandalous  ;  but  nobod}''  minds  nowadays. 
The  law  won't  punish  a  thief  of  this  sort,  though  it 
has  the  power. 

It  is  on  record  that  when  "  Beau  '"  Fielding  had 
the  audacity  to  display  the  Denbeigh  arms  on  his 
carriage,  the  Earl  himself  walked  up  and  obliterated 
them  in  public. 

But,  a  far  more  marked  contrast,  in  this  respect, 
to  the  apathy  of  modern  times  is  presented  by  the 
proceedings  in  the  case  of  Scrope  against  Grosvenor, 
1389.  Sir  Richard  Scrope  claimed  exclusive  right  to 
the  armorial  bearings  Azure  a  bend  or.  Sir  Robert 
Grosvenor  refused  to  admit  the  claim,  asserting  his 
own.  The  Lord  High  Constable,  Thomas  of  Wood- 
stock, Duke  of  Gloucester,  the  King's  youngest  son, 
presided  over  the  Court,  while  another  son,  the 
renowned  John  of  Gaunt,  gave  evidence,  among  over 
four  hundred  notables,   mihtary,  ecclesiastical,   and 

*  He  bcarcth  Argent  three  bars  and  a  canton  gules,  by  the  nauie 
of  Fuller.     Guillim's  Heraldry,  1638 


COURTS   OF  CHIVALRY  221 

lay.  Full  particulars  will  be  found  in  the  pages  of 
Sir  Harris  Nicolas.  One  of  the  witnesses  was  Geoffrey 
Chaucer,  Esq.,  "  of  the  age  of  forty  and  upwards." 
Being  asked  whether  the  arms  belonged  to  Sir  Richard 
Scrope,  he  answered  yes,  for  he  saw  him  so  armed  in 
France  before  the  town  of  Retters,  and  so  during  the 
whole  expedition,  until  he,  the  said  Geoffrey,  was 
taken.  Being  asked  how  he  knew  that  these  arms 
appertained  to  Sir  Richard,  said  that  he  had  heard 
old  knights  and  esquires  say  that  they  (the  Scropes) 
had  continual  possession  of  the  said  arms,  and  that  he 
had  seen  them  displayed  on  banners,  glass,  paintings, 
and  vestments,  and  commonly  called  the  arms  of 
Scrope.  Being  asked  whether  he  had  ever  heard  of 
any  interruption  or  challenge  made  by  Sir  Robert 
Grosvenor  or  his  ancestors  said  no,  but  that  he  was 
once  in  Friday  Street,  and  observed  a  new  sign  hang- 
ing out  with  these  arms  thereon,  and  inquired  "  what 
inn  that  was  that  hung  out  the  arms  of  Scrope  ?  " 
and  one  answered  him  saying,  ''  They  are  not  hung 
out.  Sir,  for  Scrope,  but  they  are  put  up  there  by  a 
Knight  of  the  county  of  Chester,  called  Sir  Robert 
Grosvenor  "  ;  and  that  was  the  first  time  that  he  ever 
heard  speak  of  any  one  bearing  the  name  of  Grosvenor. 
The  enormous  mass  of  evidence  proved  con- 
clusively that  the  arms  were  displayed  by  valiant 
soldiers  of  both  families  at  Cressy  and  Poictiers,  and 
were  in  joint  use  since  the  time  of  WiUiam  the 
Conqueror.     But  Scrope  claimed  usor  as  far  back  as 


222  OMNIANA 

Edward  the  Confessor.  The  Duke  of  Gloucester 
confirmed  to  him  the  original  coat  Azure  a  bend  or, 
and  to  the  other  Azure  a  hend  or,  within  a  lordure  ; 
but  Grosvenor  would  have  none  of  it,  and  "  he 
"  apealyd  to  the  Kynge  &  uttrelye  refusyd  the  news 
"  armes ;  whcrefor  the  Kynge  gave  Judgement 
"  27  May,  1390,  in  the  great  chambre  of  Parliament 
"  w^li"  his  palyce  Royal  at  Westm'  present  the  Dukes 
"of  Gwyen  &  Glowestre  the  Bishope  of  London" 
[and  a  host  of  other  notables  too  numerous  to 
mention]  "  that  th'  armes  should  whollye  remayne 
"  to  Sir  Richard  Scrope  &  his  heyres  &  Grosvenor 
"  to  have  no  p'te  thereof."  Grosvenor,  thus  defeated, 
adopted  an  entirely  new  and  different  coat  of  arms. 
The  King  gave  costs  against  him ;  but  these  costs 
Scrope  remitted  after  declaring  that  he  "  had  so 
ivell  usyd  him,  &  belyed  him  in  his  Answeres,  that 
he  desyrved  no  courtesye." 

Another  equally  curious  case  is  that  of  Nicholas 
Lord  Burnel  against  Robert  de  Morley,  tried  in  the 
Court  of  Chivalry,  touching  the  right  to  certain  arms 
which  the  former  claimed  as  exclusively  his,  and  which 
the  latter  had  assumed  "  without  any  just  pretence," 
declaring  that  it  was  "  his  will  and  pleasui'e  so  to  do," 
and  that  he  would  defend  his  so  doing.  Probably 
he  had  no  arms  of  his  own,  and  was  the  first  of  his 
family  to  win  distinction.  He  had  served  as  Esquire 
to  Sir  Edward  Burnel,  the  complainant's  uncle,  at 
the  siege  of  Calais,  in  1346,  arrayed,  of  course,  in  the 


COURTS   OF   CHIVALRY  223 

insignia  of  his  master,  on  whose  death  he  assumed 
them.  Sir  Nicholas  claimed  the  arms  as  belonging 
to  his  family  only  ;  and  one  of  his  retinue  challenged 
Robert  de  Morley  to  mortal  combat,  in  support  of 
Sir  Nicholas's  right ;  but  the  King  referred  the 
dispute  to  the  Court  of  Chivalry  held  at  Calais, 
and  presided  over  by  William  Bohun,  Earl  of  North- 
ampton, High  Constable  of  England,  and  Thomas 
Beauchamp,  Earl  of  Warwick.  The  trial  lasted  for 
several  days,  when  Robert  de  Morley,  seeing  the  case 
going  adversely  to  him,  swore  "  by  God's  flesh  that 
if  the  arms  were  adjudged  against  him,  he  never 
more  would  arm  himself  in  the  King's  service." 
Whereupon  a  compromise  was  effected,  and  the  King 
out  of  personal  regard  for  the  signal  services  he  had 
performed,  yet  considering  also  the  right  of  Nicholas 
Lord  Burnel,  was  desirous  to  put  an  end  to  the  contest 
with  as  little  offence  as  possible,  sent  the  Earl  of 
Lancaster  and  other  Lords,  to  Burnel,  with  a  request 
that  he  would  permit  Robert  de  Morley  to  bear  the 
arms  during  the  term  of  his  natural  life  only.  His 
Lordship  assented  out  of  regard  to  the  King.  Judg- 
ment was  given  accordingly,  at  the  Church  of  St. 
Peter,  Calais,  and  proclaimed  by  a  herald  in  presence 
of  the  whole  army  there  assembled.  Robert  de 
Morley  was  "  seized  of  his  last  illness  in  Burgundy,  in 
1360,"  when  the  English  were  returning  from  the 
blockade  of  Paris.  Feeling  the  approach  of  death, 
he  folded  up  the  banner  bearing  the  arms,  and  directed 


224  OMNIANA 

it  to  be  delivered  to  Burnel ;  wliich  was  done  in  the 
presence  of  numbers  of  the  nobihty  convened  as 
witnesses  of  the  ceremony  ;  Lord  Burnel  died  in  1382, 
and  was  interred  in  Acton  Burnel  church. 

But  the  glamour  of  this  old-time  chivalry  has 
passed  away.  We  don't  trouble  about  such  trifles 
now.  If  I  went  for  a  fellow  whom  I  will  call  Brown- 
smith,  oi-  damaged  his  carriage  panels,  either  of  the 
City  magistrates  would  give  me  short  shrift,  I  have 
very  httle  doubt.  I  should  be  laughed  at,  and  called 
a  crank,  as  a  matter  of  course,  by  my  friend  Robinson 
and  others.  And  the  joke  of  it — if  it  can  be  called  a 
joke— is  that  he  isn't  a  Brownsmith  at  all,  only  plain 
Smith.  His  mother  was  a  Brown,  and  his  aspiring 
father  gave  him  that  as  a  second  Christian  name. 
In  early  youth  the  son  combined  these  two  into  one 
surname,  and  contents  himself  with  one  Christian 
name  only.  John  Brownsmith,  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  looks  better  than  J.  B.  Smith.  This  is  a  very 
common  form  of  present-day  snobbery. 

In  connexion  with  this  subject,  I  remember  an 
incident  which  occurred  somewhere  about  I860. 
Mr.  Jones  of  Clytha  determined  to  drop  that  vulgar 
cognomen,  and  requested  that  his  son— appointed 
to  the  Monmouthshire  Mihtia — should  be  gazetted 
Herbert.  The  Lieutenant  of  the  County,  Lord 
Llanover,  objected,  and  then  there  was  a  row,  which 
resulted  in  a  Parliamentary  debate.  Mr.  Jones 
wrote  also  to  the  Lord  Chancellor,  requesting  that 


JONES  BECOMES   HERBERT  225 

the  name  should  appear  as  Herbert  in  his  commission 
of  the  peace.  Finally,  after  the  Sohcitor-General  had 
been  consulted,  the  crux  was  got  over  by  the  Queen's 
warrant,  through  the  Heralds'  College. 

Another  case  was  that  of  a  Mr.  Bugge,  who  affected 
the  name  of  Howard,  with  the  result  that,  for  some 
time,  the  objectionable  insect  came  to  be  spoken  of  as 
a  "  Norfolk  Howard." 

One  can  respect  and  understand  the  action  of 
that  eccentric  Peer  [father  of  the  no  less  eccentric 
Lady  Hester  Stanhope],  who,  when  he  became  a 
leveller^ — democrat — socialist — repudiated  and  ceased 
to  display  heraldic  insignia ;  but  for  pretentious 
assumption  of  grandeur  there  should  be  no  toleration. 

In  my  early  youth  I  was  at  school  with,  say, 
Tim  M.  Jones.  We  drifted  in  later  life  apart.  He 
blossomed  out  into  a  very  successful  doctor,  and 
became  T.  Mauleverer- Jones.  He  had  the  same 
reason  for  exploiting  the  Mauleverer  that  Smith  had 
for  the  Brown  ;  but,  he  improved  on  it  by  the  hyphen  ; 
and,  now,  a  son  in  the  Royal  Engineers  is  Captain 
Mauleverer- Jones,  and  his  three  daughters  are  the 
Misses  Mauleverer- Jones,  who  all  walk  with  their 
noses  up  in  the  air  as  though  there  was  a  bad  smell 
somewhere  about.  All  that  sort  of  thing  goes  down, 
I  suppose,  with  some  people  in  society.  It  chokes  me. 
I  can't  swallow  it,  though  I  have  to  put  up  with 
it  among  some  near  relations.  It  brings  on  "  a 
tremendous  determination  of  words  to  the  mouth."  * 

*  Surtees,  Ask  Mamma. 

Q 


226  OMNIANA 

One  of  the  worst  cases  of  this  sort  which  I  can 
recall  is  that  of  a  late  most  able,  worthy,  learned, 
pious,  and  unassuming  prelate,  beloved  by  all  who 
knew  him  :  hut  who,  by  father's  or  mother's  side, 
could  lay  no  claim  to  pedigree  or  heraldic  insignia — 
nor  did  he  pretend  to  either.  He  was  above  snobbery  ; 
but  his  humble  parents  gave  him,  at  baptism,  a  very 
high-sounding  second  Christian  name,  which  was,  and 
is,  the  surname  of  a  peer  ;  and,  now,  his  descendants 
have- — like  my  friend  T.  Mauleverer-Jones — requi- 
sitioned tlie  hyphen,  and  the  double-barrelled  name 
goes  down  to  posterity.  But,  worse  than  this,  a 
bogus  coat  of  arms  had  been  assigned  to  him,  in  his 
cathedral !  This  means  a  nice  crux  for  the  future 
genealogist ;  when,  say  three  generations  hence,  a 
descendant  of  this  honest-hearted  ancestor  comes 
along,  and  says  to  Ulster  King  of  Arms  :  "I  want 
my  pedigree  registered.  My  great-grandfather  was 
a  bishop  ;  his  arms  are  depicted  in  the  cathedral 
of ;  and,  from  his  first  surname,  it  is  tradition- 
ally believed  that  his  mother  was  a  daughter  of 

Lord    !  *'     Here    my    friend    Robinson,    who 

claims  the  privilege  of  reading  my  proof  sheets, 
triumphantly  informs  me  that  I  have  "  dropped  on  a 
mare's  nest  "  ;  as  he  knows  for  a  fact,  that  a  brand- 
new  "  coat  costing  some  forty  pounds  in  fees,  has 
been  duly  taken  out  with  the  hyphened  name  attached 
— making  it  all  right."  But  does  it  ?  The  new  coat 
does  not  correspond  with  the  bogus  one— so  that 


SELF-MADE  MEN  227 

confusion  is  worse  confounded  ;  and  even  if  it  did 
correspond,  a  grant  to  a  son  does  not  give  a  father  any 
right  to  arms  :  the  bishop  had  none. 

No  logical  fault  can  be  found  with  the  honest  man 
Hke  Curtius  Eufus,  '"  descended  from  himself,"  *  who 
makes  no  pretence,  and  despises  heraldry  and  gene- 
alogy. He  has  got  socially  to  the  top  of  the  tree 
■ — or  well  up  it  at  all  events,  without  the  aid  of 
ancestry  or  coat  armour  ;  and  his  family  tree  is  a 
mere  shrub  which  will  require  the  fostering  care  of 
many  generations  to  help  it  to  grow  and  blossom. 
But,  the  other  type  of  self-made  man,  who  cuts  a  big 
dash  with  somebody  else's  heraldic  insignia- — well, 
we  meet  him  everywhere,  and  have  to  put  up  with 
him.  He  may  steal  the  crest,  but  not  the  spoon.  He 
gets  off  scot-free  because  society  has  come  to  value 
its  spoons  more  than  its  crest ;  and  he  can  always 
display  plated  articles,  decorated  with  a  mailed  fist, 
a  lion  rampant,  a  cock,  a  griffin,  or  anything  that  takes 
his  fancy.  My  friend  Robinson  is  a  hard-headed  sort 
of  chap,  and  he  told  me  plainly  that  I  was  "  talking 
rot  "  when  I  declared  that  I  would  not  disgrace  my 
legitimately  acquired  crest  by  putting  it  on  base  metal. 

"  All  childish  nonsense,"  he  said.  "  There's  Jakes 
— you  know  him — with  several  thousands  a  year.  He's 
got  a  crest  now.  I  was  dining  with  him  recently,  and 
he  told  me  all  about  it,  said  that  he  found  it  on  the 
top  of  his  grandfather's  tombstone — an  hour-glass. 

*  Tacitus,  Annl,  Book  XI,  C.  22. 


228  OMNIANA 

You  may  laugh  ;  but,  what  odds  1  I  admire 
Jakes  lor  having  tlie  courage  of  his  convictions, 
and  putting  this  hour-glass  on  his  profusion  of 
plated  ware.  It  serves  for  purposes  of  identifica- 
tion anyhow." 

I  aver  that  it  does  not,  because  he  cannot  claim  a 
right  to  exclusive  use  of  it  ;  and,  in  any  case,  initials 
would  serve  tlie  purpose  better.  The  motive  I  take 
to  be  ostentation,  pure  and  simple  ;  and  the  same 
motive  underhes  his  big  display  of  sham  silver. 
Robinson's  retort  is  that  if  a  man  does  not  want  to 
fool  away  his  money  on  the  genuine  article,  there  is 
no  valid  reason  why  he  should  not  buy  Sheffield  plate  ; 
and,  moreover,  that  the  use  he  puts  it  to  may  be  a 
justifying  factor — if,  for  instance,  he  hospitably 
invites  his  friends  to  frequent  use  of  it  on  his  table, 
why  not  dine  and  be  content  ? 

"  Nobody  really  cares  whether  the  forks  and 
spoons  which  help  us  to  dispose  of  good  cheer,  are 
sterling  or  nickel ;  but  we  all  know  the  difference," 
urges  Robinson,  "  between  a  good  dinner  and  a  bad 
one ;  and  one  really,  nowadays,  can't  distinguish 
silver  from  electroplate." 

I  press  this  very  point  as  my  chief  objection,  and 
tell  Robinson  how,  on  one  occasion,  a  perfervid 
clergyman,  showing  Ruskin  over  his  church,  pointed 
out  some  recently  executed  oak  graining,  which  was 
so  exquisitely  done  "  that  it  deceived  everybody," 
and  Ruskin's  retort  that  "  the  greater  the  deception 


ROBINSON   ON   RUSKIN  229 

the  greater  the  infamy."  But  Robinson's  patience 
would  not  stand  the  strain. 

"  Oh  !  I  know,  of  course,  you  worship  Ruskin," 
he  said,  "  bound  to,  professionally.  He  \\a'ote  TJie 
Stones  of  Venice,  didn't  he  ?  And  then  he  set  out  to 
look  for  the  ethics  of  architecture  by  the  light  of  his 
Seven  Lamfs.  The  fact  of  it  is  that  he  was  a  faddist, 
and  so  are  you.  The  difference  is  only  in  degree  ; 
he  was  great,  and  you  ain't.  But,  all  faddists  are 
more  or  less  bores  ;  their  vision  is  distorted.  Ruskin 
discovered  all  sorts  of  things  in  Turner's  pictures  that 
Turner  never  put  into  them.  When  you  start  on 
your  heraldic  cult,  you  are  magnificent,  but  not 
convincing.  Did  you  never  hear  how  that  learned 
Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society,  Sir  Paul  Neville,* 
astonished  his  brother  savants  by  the  discovery  of  an 
elephant  in  the  moon  ?  Well,  it  turned  out  that  a 
field  mouse  had  got  into  his  telescope.  In  your  case 
a  bee  has  got  into  your  bonnet." 

Robinson  has  the  knack  of  hitting  a  nail  on  the 
head,  and  of  driving  the  point  of  it  into  a  soft  spot. 
I  thought  it  better  to  beat  a  retreat — not  that  I  was 
vanquished,  but  I  am  bound  to  admit  that,  once  I 
am  on  this  hobby,  I  am  apt  to  throw  the  reins  loose, 
and  let  the  quadruped  gallop  away  with  me.  It  is 
time  I  dismounted,  and  got  on  another  and  less 
exigent  steed. 

*  Sir  Paul  was  son  of  the  Archbishop  of  York,  knighted  by  the  King 
at  Bishopsthorpc,  May  27,  1033. 


230  OMNIANA 

1  SHOULD  like  to ''  have  a  say  "  about  the  Fashions 
^vhich  have  come  and  gone  in  my  time.  I  am  not 
equal  to  a  learned  disquisition  on  costume. 
There  are  many  books  deahng  exhaustively  with  this 
subject,  to  which  the  curious  reader  can  turn ; 
and  I  will  content  myself  with  a  few  prehminary 
remarks. 

Fashion  is,  as  we  all  know,  an  extremely  ancient 
institution,  going  back  so  far,  that  we  can't  say  when 
it  was  born  ;  but,  that  it  afiected,  or  infected,  poor 
humanity  long  before  the  human  race  took  to  clothes, 
there  is  ample  proof.  That  most  "  perfect  fit  "  of 
all  suits — not  tailor-made — the  nude,  had  to  be 
decorated  according  to  the  fads  in  vogue,  before 
civihsation  put  in  an  appearance.  In  pagan  times 
fashion  had  its  Beau  Brummell  and  Beau  Nash  and 
Beau  Fielding.  Seneca  speaks  of  its  votaries,  even 
in  his  day,  as  being  singular  in  their  dress  and  manner 
of  life,  only  "  with  the  object  of  being  noticed  and 
attracting  attention  "  ;  and  his  remarks  are  as  fitting 
and  pertinent  now  as  then,  and  will  remain  so  to  the 
"  crack  of  doom."  Blanche,  in  his  book  on  costume, 
fixes  the  date  of  the  introduction  of  tight-lacing  in 
the  reign  of  Wilham  Kufus,  and  the  practice  still 
survives. 

Wc  are  told  that  exposure  of  the  torso  was  intro- 
duced by  that  very  loose  female,  Isabella  of  Bavaria  ; 
but  the  statement  may,  very  safel}-,  be  traversed. 


FASHIONS  231 

Even  Juvenal  had  a  good  deal  to  say  on  the  subject, 
as  for  instance — 

Nuda  huiueros,  nudisque  mamillis 

and  again — 

PraeBente  marito 
Ipsa  loqui  recta  facie,  strictisque  mamillis. 

This  latter  passage  shows  that  the  husband  was,  in 
those  days,  privy  to,  if  he  could  not  prevent,  the 
exposure.  Another  statement,  bearing  on  this 
subject,  but  which  may  also  be  questioned,  is  made  by 
no  less  an  authority  than  the  renowned  and  famously 
learned  Bayle,  who  says  that,  when  the  Duke  of 
Burgundy  was  compelled,  by  the  unexampled  courage 
of  the  women,  to  raise  the  siege  of  Beauvais,  sanction 
was  given  to  the  so-called  weaker  sex,  to,  thenceforth, 
bedizen  themselves  au  goiit  de  leur.  But  it  was  not 
necessary  to  wait  till  the  fifteenth  century  for  this 
belated  permission  to  indulge  in  extravagant  personal 
adornment ;  for  the  propensity  was  born  with  the 
sex  ;  and  the  evolution  of  the  frock,  as  we  now  have 
it,  may,  with  its  several  shapes,  changes,  dimensions, 
and  hues,  be  traced  from  the  scant  napery  of  pre- 
adamite  woman,  back  to  an  era  B.C.  so  remote  as  to 
baffle  the  scientist  in  fixing  an  approximate  date. 
Doubtless,  too,  the  calling  of  the  jeweller  is  but  a 
development  from  the  nose-ring,  which  travelled 
thence  to  the  ears,  the  lips,  the  neck,  then  to  the 
fingers  and  down  even  to  the  ankles.  The  aiui  of 
lovely  woman  seems  to  be  always  to  decorate  ;   and, 


232  OMNIANA 

at  the  same  time,  to  show  as  much  of  herself  at  both 
ends,  as  the  state  of  society  will  allow  ;  and,  where 
she  cannot  show,  to  suggest.  At  first  she  was  at  a 
disadvantage  in  having  only  the  one  irremovable 
suit  to  work  upon  ;  but  the  modern  woman  has  a 
wardrobe  of  unlimited  variety  at  her  command  :  she 
is  nothing  if  not  changeable. 

The  desire  among  women  for  never-ending  variety 
seems  to  be  radical ;  while  among  men  there  appears 
to  be  a  conservative  element  which  holds  its  own  for 
long  periods.  She  crowds  into  a  year  as  much  change 
as  he  spreads  over  a  century  ;  though  at  certain 
periods  of  fashion  it  was  six  of  one  and  half  a  dozen 
of  the  other — not  a  pin  to  choose  between  them. 
For  instance,  in  the  reign  of  George  III.  Ehzabeth 
Chudleigh,  afterwards  the  notorious  Duchess  of 
Kingston,  appeared  in  a  masquerade  at  Somerset 
House  (given  by  the  Venetian  ambassador),  as 
Iphigenia,  decked  only  in  flesh-coloured  tights.  Not 
to  be  outdone  by  the  other  sex,  a  gentleman  put  in  an 
appearance  as  Adam,  in  similarly  scant  costume,  with 
the  addition  of  a  girdle  of  fig  leaves  ;  while  Colonel 
Luttrell  figured  as  a  dead  man  in  his  shroud.  Matters 
became  so  scandalous  that  the  Church  took  alarm, 
and  the  bishops  intervened,  with  the  unsatisfactory 
result  that  the  most  bare-faced  and  bare-bodied 
lady  delinquents  paid  the  prelates  a  comphment 
by  appearing  at  the  next  masquerade  in  episcopal 
aprons    only.     However,    when    things    got    to    the 


THE   TALL   HAT  233 

worst,  they  began  to  mend  ;  and,  I  hope  it  is  safe  to 
predict  that  such  reprehensible  doings  will  never 
be  repeated. 

I  have  said  that  men  are  more  conservative  than 
women,  in  their  fashions  ;  and  three  instances  occur 
to  me,  by  way  of  illustration — the  "  topper  "  or  stove- 
pipe hat,  the  "  claw-hammer "  dresscoat,  and  the 
double-breasted  "  frock."  Let  us  take  the  life  of 
the  "  topper  "  first.  It  seems  to  me  only  right  that 
the  name  of  its  inventor  should  be  better  known  than 
it  is.  John  Heatherington,  haberdasher,  made  his  first 
appearance  sporting  his  famous  headgear,  in  1797. 
He  created  such  a  sensation,  and  gathered  such  a 
crowd,  that  he  was  arrested  for  the  obstruction,  and 
bound  over  in  £500.  But  the  strangest  fact  in 
connexion  with  the  matter  is  that  the  Times  spoke 
of  the  new  hat  as  "  an  advance  in  dress  reform,  bound 
"  sooner  or  later  to  stamp  its  character  upon  the 
"  entire  community  and  destined  to  work  a  revolution 
"  in  head-gear."  So  it  proved,  with  a  vengeance  ; 
for,  to  this  day,  it  is  the  ''  correct  thing." 

A  man  named  Lloyd  took  up  the  running  at  his 
shop,  71,  Strand,  and  led  the  van.  He  was  a  poet  of 
sorts,  and  advertised  in  verse  ;   as,  for  instance — ■ 

'■  You  have  only  to  call, 
Tor  thousands  of  shapes  he  can  cater — 

At  his  depot  of  Taste — 

Fashion,  fancy,  and  all — 
•Juyt  facing  the  Adelphi  Theatre." 

His  accentuation  of  the  last  word  was  more  academic, 


234  OMNIANA 

though  not  as  fashionable  as  his  head-gear,  and  the 
exigencies  of  rhyme  are  imperative.*  He  had  to 
contend  with  a  bitter  rival,  who  ran  him  close  at 
58,  Strand.  Ever  since  that  time  the  "  topper  "  has 
held  the  field.  I,  myself,  for  a  brief  space  possessed 
one  ;  for  it  was  borne  in  upon  me,  from  all  sides,  that 
1  must  have  it  to  be  married  in — that  it  was  really 
part  and  parcel  of  the  ceremony — that  to  appear,  on 
the  solemn  occasion,  in  a  cap  or  a  soft  felt  would  be  an 
outrage.  The  time  was  one  to  foster  a  complaisant 
mood  ;  and  I  complied  with  the  wishes  of  my  friends  ; 
but,  later  on,  when  I  came  to  fully  realise  the  position 
—to  consider  that  I  might  do  the  hat  an  injury — or 
that,  if  I  did  not  part  with  it,  I  should  have  to  purchase 
a  special  plush-hncd  case  and  a  special  brush  for  it, 
which  was  neither  a  hair  brush  nor  a  clothes  brush, 
I  took  the  desperate  resolve  that,  come  what  might, 
rd  get  rid  of  it.  A  happy  thought  occurred  to  me, 
and  I  made  it  a  present  to  a  "  cabby  "  on  the  first 
opportunity.  His  gratitude,  and  his  pride  of  posses- 
sion, were  simply  immense,  and  so  was  my  satisfaction ; 
but  1  was  always  a  "Bohemian"  at  heart — as  the 
reader  will  have  concluded. 

Efltorts  have  been  made  to  suppress  the  hat,  but 
in   vain :    it   came   to   stay,   and   it   has   remained. 

*  A  [jcdautic  friend  of  uiiiic,  ■when  diacussiiig  tlic  drama,  always 
speaks  of  the  theatre  ;  but  he  is  a  man  with  the  courage  of  his  con- 
victions— which  some  of  us  lack.  You  and  I  speak  of  the  arbutus — 
a  pronunciation  which  would  have  played  mischief  with  the  scanning 
of  one  of  Virgil's  lines,  and  set  his  teeth  on  edge. 


THE   TALL  HAT  235 

Edmund  Yates,  in  his  autobiography,  says  that 
George  Henry  Lewes  started  the  innovation  of  the 
soft  felt ;  but,  being  an  ugly  man,  he  looked  so 
repulsive  in  this  new  get-up  that  it  did  not  "  take." 
This  is  a  libel  on  Lewes,  and  a  mistake.  A  man,  in 
my  opinion,  nuich  ugUer — Thomas  Carlyle — started 
wearing  it  at  an  earlier  date,  and  continued  to  do  so 
to  his  dying  day.  The  ughness  of  Lewes  was  re- 
deemed by  a  vivacity  which  was  lacking  in  the  sour 
and  dyspeptic  Scot.    (See  portrait  of  Lewes,  page  164.) 

About  the  year  1900,  at  a  special  meeting  of  the 
Common  Council  of  Courteuil  [I  forget  the  exact  date, 
and  I  don't  know  where  Courteuil  is  ;  but  these  are 
details  of  no  importance],  the  civic  fathers  passed  a 
resolution  condemning  it,  and  the  city  father,  re- 
sponsible for  proposing  it,  submitted  that  "  the  tall 
"  hat  constitutes  a  humihation  for  those  who  cannot 
"  afford  to  buy  one  ;  that  those  who  wear  tall  hats 
"  live  by  the  sweat  of  the  poor  ;  that  it  is  an  un- 
"  aesthetic  form  of  headgear ;  and  that  its  dis- 
"  appearance  would  tend  to  the  estabhshment  of 
''  equality  among  the  citizens  of  the  Republic."  As  a 
preHminary  step  towards  its  total  abohtion,  he  pro- 
posed that  any  one  found  wearing  a  top  hat  in  Cour- 
teuil should  be  fined  five  francs  ;  but  the  proposal 
found  no  favour,  and  came  to  naught. 

A  young  relative  of  mine,  home  on  his  vacation, 
unexpectedly  encountered  another  schoolboy  in  the 
street,   "  swanking,"  as  he  said,   "in  a  '  topper,'  " 


236  OMNIANA 

aud  was  so  overcome  by  the  sight  that  he  could  not 
resist  the  temptation  to  "  go  "  for  the  wearer.  He 
"  went,"  and  bonneted  him  then  and  there.  When  he 
arrived  home,  he  owned  up — more  in  sorrow  than  in 
anger  ;  and,  on  being  admonished  by  my  "  better 
half,"  could  only  plead  humbly — "  Well,  granny, 
I  simply  couldn't  stand  it."  My  heart  went  out  to 
him  ;  for,  from  my  point  of  view,  the  provocation 
was  ample.  I  know  that  subsequently,  when  my 
youngest  grandson  went  to  a  school  where  the 
"  topper "  is  indispensable,  I  warned  his  mother 
never  to  let  me  see  the  boy  in  such  a  get-up  ;  as  I 
felt  that  I  could  not  possibly  bring  myself  to  "  tip  " 
him  if  I  did. 

One's  idea  of  the  thoroughly  respectable,  high- 
grade  medical  man  always  associates  this  top  hat 
with  the  frock-coat ;  and  I  think  that  to  the  medical 
man  the  frock-coat  owes  its  survival  up  to  the  present. 
Its  future  seems  to  be  assured  for  a  good  way  ahead  ; 
though  whether  it  is  destined  to  outlive  the  "  claw- 
hammer "  dress  one  I  doubt. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  I  have  come  to  look  at  these 
matters,  now,  from  a  standpoint  which  enables  me 
to  fully  appreciate  the  words  of  Thackeray  :  "  Re- 
"  member  how  many  poor  devils  are  living  in  a  state 
"  of  utter  respectability  and  glory  in  your  own 
"  escape.  Think  of  the  people  who  arc  '  presenting 
''  their  compliments,'  *  requesting  the  honour,'  and 
"  '  much  regretting  '  !  " 


THE   CLAW-HAMMER   COAT  237 

Some  years  ago,  under  the  plea  of  old  age,  I  gave 
up  dining  out,  or  accepting  invitations  to  evening 
parties  ;  and  I  presented  the  whole  of  ray  latest 
dress  rig-out  to  "  Andy  "  (whom  I  had  known  as 
head-waiter  at  the  Grosvenor  Hotel  for  over  twenty 
years)  as  a  testimonial  of  my  regard.  I  fancy  he  was 
even  more  gi'ateful  than  the  cabman  who  got  my 
"  topper  "  ;  and  it  was  a  better  way  of  disposing  of 
it  than  naihng  it  up — as  I  contemplated  doing- — 
upon  my  dressing-room  door,  as  gamekeepers  nail 
up  the  coats  of  stoats  or  weasels.  The  long  reign  of 
this  hideous  garment,  is,  no  doubt,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  women  seem  to  approve  of  it.  We  have  all 
heard  the  dear  creatures  exclaim,  over  and  over  again, 
"  Oh  !  gentlemen  do  look  so  nice  in  dress  coats  !  " 
But,  still,  it  is  not  safe  to  hazard  a  reason  like  this, 
for  the  same  may  be  said  of  waiters.  I  had,  at  one 
time,  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  a  man  who  was 
both  a  gourmand  and  a  gourmet,  and  he  assured  me 
solemnly,  that  he  could  not  "  dine,"  in  the  proper 
acceptation  of  the  word,  unless  in  full  evening  dress. 
He  said  it  was  constitutional  with  him,  but  beyond 
that  he  did  not  explain  :  nor  could  I,  a  man  in 
tweeds,  content  with  a  cutlet  and  a  glass  of  water,  be 
expected  to  plumb  the  depths  of  social  refinement 
in  which  he  was  immersed.  He  is  dead,  yet  he  lives 
in  my  memory,  as  in  my  debt  a  year's  rent.  The 
fact  that  he  took  his  departure- — so  to  speak — in  a 
"  claw-hammer  "  suit,  is  hardly  an  equivalent.     But 


238  0]\INIANA 

the  costume  has  nothing  to  recommend  it — nothing 
to  differentiate  the  master  from  the  servant.  When 
my  distinguished  compatriot,  The  O'MuUigan,  went 
to  a  "  supper-ball "  given  by  the  hospitable  Perkins, 
it  was  quite  natural  that,  in  the  small  hours  of  morning, 
the  thirsty  Irishman  should  mistake  the  old  gentleman 
himself  for  the  butler,  and  order  him  to  produce  more 
liquor.* 

But,  to  come  back  to  my  subject.  About  half  a 
century  ago — if  it  were  worth  the  trouble  I  could  go 
nearer  to  the  date — I  noticed  a  curious  change  in 
the  form  of  announcing  births,  in  the  newspapers. 
The  "  old  style  "  was  :  "On  such  a  date,  the  wife  of 
So-and-so,  of  a  son ''  ;  but.  Dives  Tomkins  wasn't 
satisfied  with  this,  as  he  had  married  into  the  peerage, 
and  wanted  society  to  know  it ;  so  in  his  case  the 
announcement  ran :  "To  Dives  Tomkins,  Esq., 
and  the  Lady  Gundreda  Tomkins,  a  son  and  heir." 
This  formula  caught  on  ;  and,  when  Aliter  Tomkins 
came  along,  and  wanted  to  be  in  the  running,  but 
hadn't  a  titled  wife,  he  was  compelled  to  be  content 
with  this :  "To  AUter  Tomldns,  Esq.,  and  Mrs. 
Tomkins,  a  son,"  ;  this  was  the  nearest  that  outsiders 
could  get  to  the  fashion  ;  and,  as  these  formed  the 
overwhelming  majority,  they  stamped  the  innovation 
with  approval ;  so  that  now  we  see  the  everyday 
announcement :  "To  Thomas  Tubbs,  Esq.,  and  Mrs. 
Tubbs,   a  son  and  heir."    In  other  words,   Tubbs 

*  Thackeray's  Chtislmas  Books. 


THE   TURNED-UP  TROUSERS  239 

makes  it  plain  that  his  issue  is  by  his  own  wife,  and 
not  by  another  man's.  Meanwhile,  the  "  marriage  " 
column  seems  to  have  caught  the  silly  infection  from 
the  other  ;  as,  one  frequently  sees  the  bride  described 
as  daughter  of  Such  and  such,  Esq.,  and  of  Mrs. 
Such  and  such — which  seems  to  have  no  point,  beyond 
indicating  that  the  young  lady,  Hke  Miss  Tubbs  above 
mentioned,  was  born  in  wedlock.  Some  day,  perhaps, 
we  may  get  rid  of  this  form  of  blatant  snobbery  and 
revert  to  the  good  old  style  of  common  sense  advertise- 
ment. 

It  is  astonishing  what  trivialities  of  fashion  sane 
men  will  give  heed  to.  An  entire  nation  now  turns 
up  the  ends  of  its  trousers  ;  not  for  the  reason  that 
they  may  be  too  long,  but  because  King  Edward 
turned  up  his,  one  day,  in  a  turnip  field,  when  partridge 
shooting.  I  shouldn't  be  at  all  surprised  if,  some  day, 
it  becomes  the  right  thing  to  turn  up  one's  cuf?. 
Cuffs  were  slit,  in  old  times,  and  buttons  and  button- 
holes provided,  to  facilitate  this  being  done  ;  and 
we  still  retain  the  buttons,  as  ornaments  only.  I 
found  that  their  being  unable  to  fulfil  their  original 
function  developed  another,  which  was  simply  to 
catch  and  tear  the  silk  Hning  of  my  overcoat  sleeves, 
so  I  cut  them  of!  ;  and,  when  I  called  on  my  tailor  for 
a  new  ''  rig  out  "  I  said  to  him^ — 

"  By-the-bye,  Sartor,  you  might  omit  these  cuff 
buttons  in  future." 

He  looked  pained  and  remonstrated.     "  Oh    no, 


240  OMNIANA 

sir,  you  must  not  ask  me  to  do  that' — you  really 
mustn't !     Consider  my  reputation  !  " 

He  thought  I  was  a  bit  off  my  head.  And  this, 
coupled  with  the  fact  that  I  always  pay  him  ready 
money,  lowered  me  in  his  estimation.  Evidently  I 
looked  upon  clothing  from  a  lower  plane  than  he — a 
utilitarian  one — a  mere  necessary  covering  of  the  body, 
and  not  an  artistic  adjunct — which  was  distinctly 
derogatory  to  his  calling.  He  still  puts  on  the  super- 
fluous buttons,  and  I  still  cut  them  of^' ;  but  I  feel 
tliat  there  is  a  dignified  condescension  in  his  tolerating 
me  as  a  customer  at  all,  under  the  circumstances. 

You  and  I  nuist  conform,  or  be  voted  outsiders. 
We  may  knife  our  cheese  to  our  mouth,  as  Tony 
Lumpkin  does ;  but,  after  all,  our  distance  from  him 
is,  by  sundry  other  indications,  only  one  of  degree  ; 
and  fashion  arbitrarily  determines  whether  we  arc  to 
be  without  or  within  the  ring. 

It  would  be  quite  impossible  to  convey  an  accurate 
idea  of  the  intense  acrimony  displayed  two  generations 
r^go — about  the  time  of  the  Crimean  War,  on  the 
moustache  question  ;  suffice  it  to  say  that  I  could  not 
over-state  it  if  I  tried.  Up  to  then  all  respectable 
and  fashionable  males  were  clean  shaven  as  to  lip, 
jaw,  and  chin  ;  the  mutton-chop  whisker  only  being 
tolerated  ;  and  even  this  adornment  had  to  submit 
to  the  curling  tongs  every  morning,  in  order  to  be  a 
strictly  correct  and  fitting  adjunct  to  the  top  hat. 
After  the  Crimean  War,  a  party  of  aristocratic  and 


MOUSTACHE   AND   BEARD  241 

leading  members  of  the  hon  ion  returned  from  the 
Continent,  and,  with  a  few  kindred  spirits,  had  the 
temerity  or  the  courage  to  appear  in  society  with 
moustaches.  The  audacity  of  the  innovation  stag- 
gered the  "  upper  ten,"  of  fashion,  and  raised  a  storm 
of  protest ;  the  action  of  these  daring  men  was 
vehemently  denounced  by  society  as  a  snobbish 
infringement  of  the  rights  and  privileges  of  the  army  ; 
and  vials  of  vituperation  were  pom'ed  out  on  the 
offenders,  particularly  when  it  was  found  that  the 
middle  class  had  begun  to  follow  suit.  How  was 
one  to  know  a  captain  from  "  a  commercial  "  ?  The 
situation  called  for  drastic  action.  Strange  to  say, 
the  clergy  of  all  denominations  w^ere  among  the  most 
bitter  opponents  of  the  civilian's  claim  to  do  as  he 
liked  with  his  upper  lip.  The  Press  took  up  the 
running  ;  and  angry  articles  and  letters  appeared, 
week  after  week.  I,  being  of  an  utterly  Bohemian 
temperament ;  never  having  (even  up  to  the  present 
day)  either  shaved  or  possessed  a  razor,  looked  on 
and  enjoyed  the  silly  row,  from  a  neutral  and  impartial 
standpoint ;  but  I  never  doubted  the  issue. 

The  common  sense  recruits  soon  swelled  the  ranks 
of  the  innovators,  and,  finally,  carried  the  day.  The 
moustache  won  all  along  the  hne  ;  and,  wisely  but 
stealthily,  the  advocates  of  the  beard  followed  in  the 
wake  of  the  victors  :  both  have  since  been  joint 
holders  of  the  field.  A  middle-aged,  black-haired 
clerical   acquaintance   of    mine,    who   shaved   every 


242  OMNIANA 

morning,  was  a  bitter  enemy  of  the  new  cult.  I 
"  went "  for  him  one  day,  with  the  reckless  impulse 
of  youth,  remarking,  with  an  air  of  lofty  superiority 
that — 

"  Moses  and  Aaron  and  the  prophets  and  patriarchs 
got  along  ^\^thout  shaving,  anyhow." 

"  What  authority  have  you,"  he  asked,  "  for  such  a 
sweeping  statement  ?  " 

"Authority!"  I  sneered,  "why,  razors  weren't 
invented,  and,  even  if  they  had  been,  those  sensible 
old  chaps  wouldn't  have  wasted  half  an  hour,  every 
day,  in  taking  oft"  what  Providence  intended  them  to 
keep  on." 

This  naturally  nettled  him,  and  he  hotly  retorted : 
"  Your  assertions,  as  to  the  habits  of  those  whom  you 
iiTeverently  call  '  old  chaps  '  shows  that  you  know 
little  or  nothing  as  to  what  you  are  talking  about. 
I'd  advise  you  to  read  your  Bible,  and  get  some 
definite  information,  before  you  pose  as  a  propa- 
gandist." As  he  spoke  he  tore  a  leaf  out  of  a  memo- 
randum book  and  handed  it  to  mc.  "  Those  refer- 
ences," he  said,  "  may  be  of  use." 

It  was  evident  that  he  had  been  studying  the 
subject,  and  had  something  in  reserve,  so  it  struck 
me  that  I  had  better  be  cautious.  I  took  the  paper, 
and  pocketed  it,  promising  to  look  up  the  references. 

"  All  the  same,"  I  said,  "  I  can't  for  the  hfe  of  me 

see,  Mr.  M ,  what  vahd  objection  you  can  advance 

against  the  moustache  and  beard." 


A   BIBLICAL   QUESTION  243 

*' 1  object,"'  he  retorted  promptly,  "because  I 
consider  them  unseemly  and  filthy  objects  ;  and  I 
shave  because  I  prefer  cleanliness  to  dirt." 

The  reply  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  save  my  face, 
as  I  retreated. 

"  Oh  !  but,"  I  said,  "  look  here,  my  dear  sir,  if 
you  take  your  stand  on  that  assertion,  as  an  argument, 
it  will  carry  you  too  far,  and  land  you  in  dijficulties 
which  must  be  obvious  if  you  think  matters  out." 

He  waved  his  hand  contemptuously,  as  we  parted 
— looking  upon  me  as  an  aggressive  youth  who  needed 
snubbing,  while  I  looked  upon  him  as  a  hide-bound 
ascetic  who  needed  similar  treatment. 

When  I  got  to  my  "  diggings  "  I  borrowed  my 

landlady's  Bible  to  look  up  the  Rev.  Mr.  M^ 's 

references,  only  to  find  that  he  had  scored  of!  me 
heavily,  and  knocked  the  bottom  out  of  one  of  my 
favourite  assumptions,  which  had  never  before  been 
questioned.  The  references  were  conclusive  as  to  the 
use  of  the  razor  by  the  Old  Testament  worthies. 
I  give,  for  the  edification  of  the  curious,  one  of  these 
references,  which  will  be  sufficient — Ezekiel  v.  1. 

I  was  not,  at  that  time,  posted  up  in  hagiology, 
or  I  might  have  cornered  my  reverend  friend  by 
quoting  the  case  of  Saint  Wilgeforte,  who  prayed  for, 
and  got,  a  beard,  in  order  to  ward  oft'  suitors  who  were 
a  trouble  to  her — which  it  eftectually  did  (see  Patron 
Saints  of  the  English  Church,  by  Francis  Bond). 
Her   bearded   statue   is   to   be   seen   in   Henry   the 


244  OMNIANA 

Seventh's  Chapel ;  and  Sir  Thomas  Moie  says  that 
"  for  a  peck  of  oats  she  would  iincumber  wives  of 
"  their  husbands  " — which  was  uncommonly  cheap, 
surely.  But  there  are  beards  and  beards.  Old 
Hakluyt  tells  how,  in  Russia,  at  a  complimentary 
dinner,  on  the  rising  of  the  guests,  the  Czar  called 
upon  the  English  each  to  receive  a  cup  of  licj[uor  from 
himself ;  and  took  into  his  hand  Master  George 
Kilhngworth's  beard,  which  reached  over  the  table  ; 
and  pleasantly  dchvered  it  to  the  Metropohtan,  who, 
lifting  it  up,  and  seeming  to  bless  it,  said  in  Russian  : 
"  It  is  God's  gift !  "  "  It  was,"  says  Hakluyt,  "  not 
"  only  thick,  broad,  and  yellow,  but  in  length  five 
"  feet  and  two  inches." 

To  speculate  on  what  the  Old  Testament  razor 
was  like,  would  be  as  futile  as  to  seek  in  the  New 
Testament  an  authoritative  answer  to  the  question 
w^hether  the  Founder  of  Christianity  and  His  disciples 
shaved.  There  is  something  repellent  in  the  thought ; 
and  evidently  the  "  Old  Masters  "  and  sculptors  felt 
this,  as  is  manifest  by  their  works.* 

But  the  outcry  against  the  moustache  on  the 
ground  that  it  "  aped  the  soldier  "  could  have  been 
raised,  with  perfect  truth,  against  a  later  fashion 
which  still  survives — ^that  of  putting  the  pocket- 
handkerchief  up  the  left  sleeve.  Before  khaki  uniform 
became  the  regidation,  the  scarlet  tunic  which  was 

*  *'  y Laving  was  forbidden  by  Mosca,  and  therefore,  according  to 
Jews  and  Chrisliaus  by  Cod." — Elliotsou's  Human  Physiolu'jy, 


HAIR   POWDER  245 

worn  had  no  pockets,  and  the  soldier,  of  necessity, 
made  one  out  of  his  cuff.  The  civihan  snob  came 
along  and  imitated  him  ;  and,  thus  we  frequently 
have  the  absurd  exhibition  of  a  man  with  half  a  dozen 
pockets  ready  to  his  hand,  carefully  stuffing  his 
handkerchief  into  his  cuff,  when  he  might  with  much 
less  eff'ort  put  it  into  its  natural  receptacle  ;  this 
business  is  about  as  reasonable  as  the  turning  up  of 
trouser  ends,  previously  referred  to.  But  in  deahng 
with  the  fashions  the  male  biped  has  not  much  to 
brag  of  in  the  way  of  superiority  over  the  so-called 
weaker  sex  ;  and  his  vanity  is  about  on  a  par  with 
hers.  It  is  part  of  lovely  woman's  metier,  for  instance, 
to  keep  her  hands  white,  and  she  covers  them  for 
that  end  ;  but  there  are  men  who  go  about,  in  summer 
weather,  carefully  gloved — will  travel  in  a  railway 
carriage,  all  day,  in  the  heat,  and  never  take  them  off. 
Perhaps,  in  the  near  future,  they  may  wear  veils,  just 
as,  in  the  past,  some  of  them  wore  stays. 

The  "  passing  "  of  the  powdered  wig  is  curious 
and  instructive.  If  there  were  no  positive  documen- 
tary and  illustrated  proofs  of  the  absurd  and  out- 
landish forms  of  head  adornment  prevailing  from 
1770  to  1780,  one  could  hardly  beheve  that  such 
folly  could  have  held  the  field  for  so  long.  Structures 
of  enormous  size  and  of  conical  shape  were  erected, 
frec^uently,  eighteen  inches  high,  on  top  of  the  head, 
(supported  inside  by  wads  of  tow,  wool,  and  cotton) 
stuck  together  with  pomatum  and  powdered  over ; 


246  OMNIANA 

finishing  at  tlie  apex  with  a  small  bow  of  ribbon  or  a 
minintuT'o  mob-cap. 

These  structures  cost  too  much  money  and  time 
to  admit  of  their  being  dismantled  at  night  and 
renewed  every  morning  by  an  expert ;  so  that  the 
wearers  slept  propped  up  in  bed,  and  carefully  watched 
by  a  servant.  These  adornments  were  decorated 
at  each  side  by  huge  removable  curls,  and  were  worn 
by  men  as  well  as  by  women  ;  and,  strange  to  say, 
the  beaux,  or  "  macaronies  "  as  they  were  called, 
added  a  removable  chignon,  the  apex  of  which  was 
crowned  with  a  diminutive  three-cornered  hat.  A 
pamphlet  dated  1790  says  of  a  Beau  of  the  period, 
"his  club  of  hair,  behind,  carries  a  hat  the  size  of  a 
"  sixpence  on  a  block  not  worth  a  farthing."  A 
correspondent  writing  to  the  London  Magazine  of 
that  time  tells  of  a  visit  to  a  relative  of  position  ;  and, 
asking  "  how  long  it  was  since  her  head  had  been 
opened  and  repaired  ?  "  got  for  answer,  "  not  above 
five  weeks."  He  remarked  that  "  that  was  as  long 
as  a  head  could  go  in  summer,"  and  he  thought  it 
was  "  proper  to  deliver  it  now  as  it  began  to  be  a  little 
liazarde''  His  description  of  what  the  opening 
disclosed  I  don't  care  to  set  down  in  detail — but  it 
was  animated  / 

This  disgusting  state  of  things  underwent  changes 
and  modifications  ;  till,  some  two  generations  ago, 
nothing  was  retained  but  the  powder,  and  this,  in 
OUT  own  time,  has  been,  in  gi'eat  measure,  discarded 


HAIR   POWDER  247 

by  the  "  upper  crust "  ;    but,  though  my  lord  and 
my  lady  have  ceased  to  use  it,  they  still  inflict  it 
upon  their  footmen — so  loath  are  they  to  break  alto- 
gether with  the  past.     One  can  scarcely  realise  the 
fact  that,   in  the  reigns  of  George  the  Third  and 
Fourth,  not  only  the  officers,  but  the  rank  and  file 
of  our  army,  had  to  powder ;   it  seems  too  ludicrous 
for  words.     The  Hibernian  Magazine  for  November, 
1799,    has    the    following  common-sense   paragraph 
bearing  on  the  subject :  "  The  Commander-in-Chief  * 
has  determined   to  forbid  the  use   of  hair  powder 
among  the  troops  in  this  country,  on  account  of  the 
quantity  of  flour  applied  to  that  purpose.     We  trust 
his  Excellency  will  extend  the  same  regulation  to  the 
Yeomanry.     Although   the   prohibition   be   confined 
to  the  military  alone,  the  number  of  which  is  estimated 
at  60,000  men,  the  saving  of  flour  would  be  not  less 
than   200   tons  !  "     Doubtless  this  blunt  statement 
had  its  weight  with  John  Bull,  for  the  Monthly  Mirror 
for  1808  has  the  following  paragraph  :   "  The  military 
force  of  Great  Britain  amounts  to  about  250,000  men, 
each  of  whom  wastes  a  pound  of  flour  per  week — no 
less  than  C500  tons  a  year,  sufficient  to  make  over 
three  miUion fifty-five  thousand  quartern  loaves,  and  to 
supply  50,000  people  with  bread  for  twelve  months  !  " 
But  the  vagaries  of  fashion  were  not,  and  are  not, 
confined  to  matters  of  personal  adornment.     They 
pervade  conversation  as  well  as  dress  ;    and,   silly 
*  Lord  Cornwall  i8. 


248  OMNIANA 

slang  phrases,  and  calch-woids  have  their  day,  and 
are  succeeded  by  others.     The  genesis  of  some  of 
these  might  be  discovered  by  dihgent  research  among 
the  pages  of  Notes  arid  Queries ;  but,  the  result  would 
hardly   repay   the   labour.     Most   of   them   are   the 
outcome  of  the  frivolous,  ever-present,  restless  desire 
for  change.     What  excuse  can  be  made  for  the  slang 
phrase  whicli  has  held  the  field  as  a  parting  saluta- 
tion— "  so  long  "'  ?     One   might  just  as  reasonably 
ejaculate — "  so  short."     Then  again  take  the  phrase 
''  stick   it,   old   man,"   which   has  become   only  too 
familiar.     But  conversational  atrocities  are  indulged 
in,  every  day,  even  by  grammarians  who  shudder 
at  a  spUt  infinitive  :    why  vex  oneself  over  them  ? 
Some  words  have  completely  lost  their  real  significance 
and  assumed  a  totally  irrelevant  meaning,   as,  for 
instance,    "  impertinent,"    which    has    come    to    be 
regarded     as    a     synonym     for    "  insolent."      The 
philological    stroller  in    search    of    conmion   verbal 
anomalies  has  a  wide  field  within  easy  reach.     He 
may  not  be  able  to  understand  why,  or  explain  how, 
a   "Johnny"  of   last  season   becomes    a    "  Knut " 
of  the  present,  or   to   surmise  what  this  "  Knut  " 
may  become  in  the  next ;   but  he  will  be  able   to 
note  the  curious  misuse  of  words,   and    perversion 
of  meaning,  indidged  in  by  authors  of  repute. 

A  word  frequently  and  flagrantly  ill-treated  is 
eqin/page.  An  instance  I  have  come  across  is  in 
one  of  Leigh  Hunt's  essays,  in  which  he  speaks  of  a 


MEANING   OF   WORDS  249 

"  tea  equipage  "  ;  and  innumerable  others  recur  to 
memory."^'  Another  equally  badly  used  word  is 
universal.  I  find  a  living  novelist  of  repute  stating 
that  a  nurse  was  "  universally "  dishked  by  the 
occupants  of  her  sick- ward  ;  while  another  prominent 
writer  speaks  of  his  hero  being  "  unpopular  "  with 
the  vicar.  In  the  one  case  we  have  a  universe  boiled 
down  to  the  dimensions  of  a  hospital  ward,  and  in 
the  other  we  are  up  against  the  difficulty  as  to  how  a 
populace  can  be  concentrated  in  an  individual. 
Numberless  authors — chiefly  ladieS' — tell  how  So-and- 
so  "  gathered  "  a  rose  ;  to  gather  a  single  flower  seems 
to  me  a  feat  excelling  the  highest  efforts  of  leger- 
demain. The  word  fartake  has  suffered  terribly. 
Sir  Walter  Scott  makes  one  of  his  characters  in 
Uedgauntlet  sit  down  "  to  fartahe  of  a  solitary  meal " 
— this  would  seem,  on  the  face  of  it,  impossible  ;  but 
it  is  quite  usual- — in  print.  Dr.  Murray's  Oxford 
Dictionary  gets  over  the  difficulty  by  saying,  "it  is 
often  used  without  any  notion  of  sharing "  ;  and 
one  of  the  authorities  c{uoted  is  Charles  Dickens  ! 

In  a  general  way  these  anomalies  don't  disturb 
the  equanimity  of  the  reader.  It  is  only  when  one 
has  a  pet  word— and  many  of  us  have  one  (like  the 
old  lady  and  her  "  blessed  Mesopotamia  "),  that  one 
feels  hurt  at  finding  it  despitefully  used.     I  have  a 

*  The  latest  since  the  above  was  written,  T  found  in  one  of  H.  G. 
Wells's  clever  novels.  He  lells  us  that  Mrs.  Beach-Mandarin  lind  "a 
tea  equipage  of  silver." 


250  OMNIANA 

gi'eat  regard  for  the  word  farafhernalia  ;  and  I  don't 
think  it  too  much  to  say  that  it  seems  to  me  to  be 
specially   singled   out   for  ill-treatment   and   misuse 
by   authors   of   every   description — good,   bad,    and 
indifferent.     To  support  this  assertion  I  will  not  go 
behind  the  outbreak  of  the  war  for  instances.     Going 
on  a  railway  journey  in  August,  1914,  I  invested  in  a 
London  daily   paper,  and  a  sevenpenny  edition  of 
Jennifer   Paniefract,   by   Ahce   and   Claude   Askew. 
From    the    former    I    learned    that    the    German 
Ambassador  had  gone  away,  "  taking  with  him  his 
diplomatic    parapheinalia,"    etc.     That    he    should 
have  possessed  paraphernaha  at  all  was  odd  enough, 
because  his  being  a  bachelor  seemed  to  tie  things 
into  a  knot  which  it  was  beyond  me  to  unravel,  so  I 
turned  to  Jennifer,  and  got  along  nicely,  till  I  was 
pulled  up  midway,  and  stumbled  over  "  the  para- 
phernalia of  the  death  chamber  !  "     If  it  had  even 
been    the    bridal    chamber — but    no !     There    was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  get  to  sleep  and  seek  temporary 
oblivion.     Some  days  later  I  found  myself  interested 
in  The  Mating  of  Lydia,  by  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward — a 
lady  who  apparently  knows  Greek,  and  Latin,  French, 
Italian,    and    other    languages.     What    my    feehngs 
were  when  I  found  her  descanting  on  "  a  paraphernalia 
of  servants  and  motor-cars  "  I  don't  care  to  say  ;  but 
there  was  more  to  come,  for  I  found,  in  her  latest 
novel,  that  Lord  Wing  "  was  buried  with  the  usual 
paraphernaha."     I  had  occasion  to  look  up  something 


MEANING   OF   WORDS  251 

recently  in  the  Annual  Register  for  1813,  and  incident- 
ally, dropped  on  particulars  of  a  sheriff's  seizure  of  the 
corporation  property  of  Sudbury,  which  included 
"  scales,  weights,  buckets,  and  other  paraphernaha." 
Subsequently,  I  found  myself  deep  in  the  enjoyment 
of  one  of  Dr.  J.  H.  Round's  pulverising  and  pitiless 
criticisms  *  of  a  paper  by  John  Cordy  Jeaffreson,  when 
I  suddenly  found  him  speaking  contemptuously  of 
that  gentleman's  "  vision  of  gabled  houses,  and  the 
rest  of  his  luckless  paraphernalia/'  I  grew  despon- 
dent. If  such  an  authority  as  J.  H.  Round  failed  me, 
where  was  I  to  look  for,  or  find,  fair  treatment  for 
this  word  ?  Certainly  not  from  Sir  Herbert  Tree, 
who,  in  a  dramatic  sketch  contributed  to  Kiiig 
Albert's  Booh  introduces  a  chiropodist  to  operate  on 
an  Emperor's  corns,  after  which  ''  he  takes  up  his 
paraphernalia  and  exits."  Here  I  may  remark  by 
the  way,  that  exits  is  not  a  printer's  error,  but  "  a  new 
and  improved  "  reading  of  exit ;  for,  Sir  Herbert  on 
another  page,  says  of  the  Emperor,  ''  he  exits  to  his 
dressing-room." 

I  don't  want  to  put  too  great  a  strain  upon  the 
reader's  patience.  However,  I  can't  resist  quoting 
the  following  letter  from  a  daily  paper — there  is  such 
an  air  of  erudition  about  what  its  author  calls  his 
"  sociological  dictuins."  I  suppress  his  name,  which 
he  himself  gives  in  full. 

*  Anliquary,  vol.  xi. 


252  OMNIANA 


"  POLITICAL  DERMATOLOGY. 

"  Sir, 

'*  Your  enthusiastic  reception  of  the  expres- 
**  sion  '  Political  Dermatology/  a  verbal  offspring 
"  of  Lord  Morley's,  makes  me  reflect,  as  I  have 
"  often  before,  as  to  how  far  the  paternity  of 
"  celebrated  men  is  responsible  for  the  successful 
"  debut  of  political  and  sociological  dictums,  apart 
"  from  their  intrinsic  merits.  In  the  world  of 
"  ideas  I  fear  all  have  not  an  equal  chance.  As 
"  the  eye  of  the  eagle  can  follow  its  prey  through 
"  the  blaze  of  the  sun,  or  the  dull  atmosphere 
"  of  the  lower  valley,  so  the  accredited  watcher 
"  for  ideas  should  possess  a  vigilant  and  tireless 
"  eye  for  truth- — be  its  origin  what  it  may.  Now 
"  I  venture  to  challenge  you  by  a  test  case. 
"  With  reference  to  the  over-exclusive  attention 
"  which  politics  gives  to  the  field  of  its  etymo- 
"  logical  origin  {'polls,  a  city),  and  the  great 
"  necessity,  as  seen  by  many,  of  building  up  a 
"  rural  civilisation,  I  '  coined '  a  new  term, 
" '  ruraltics,'  from  the  Latin  mralis,  '  pertaining 
"  to  the  country.'  Now,  if  '  Political  Derma- 
"  tology  '  expresses  epigrammatically  a  political 
"  fact  of  significance,  so,  I  contend,  does 
"  '  ruraltics.'     But,  then,  the  originator  of  the 


'^  RUlliVLTlCS  "  253 

"  one  is  Lord  Morley  ;    of  the  other,  Mr.  X — ■ — 
"  (an  unknown  quantity) — voila  tout. 
"  Yours,  etc., 

"  H.  H.  H." 

Somebody,  I  felt  sure,  would  object  to  these  dictums  ; 
and,  two  days  later,  the  following  appeared,  which 
disposed  of  "  H.  H.  H."  : — 

"  RUKALTICS. 

"  Sir, 

"  Your  correspondent  gives  us,  in  all 
"  huniihty,  his  awful  hybrid— you  have  the  word 
"  above — as  a  substitute  for  '  country  politics.' 
"  May  I  remind  him,  in  the  first  place,  that  when 
"  the  ancient  Roman  described  himself  as  '  Civis 
"  Romanics  Sum,'  he  was  no  mere  parochial  ; 
"  in  the  second,  that  his  monstrosity  is  a  Grseco- 
"  Roman  word — and  worse  ?  He  has  combined, 
"  with  a  rare  disregard  for  euphony,  the  Latin 
"  suffix  alls  and  the  Greek  ikos — both  meaning 
"  precisely  the  same  thing — and  the  effect  is 
"  terrible.  Let  us  hope  that  the  '  well  of  Enghsh 
"  undefiled '  may  not  be  polluted  by  such  a 
"  word  as  '  ruraltics.' 

"  Yours,  etc., 

"  K.  ' 

Still  it  might  be  admitted  that  the  language  abounds 


254  OMNIANA 

in  hybrids  ;  and  if  these  were  to  be  done  away,  there 
would  be  a  serious  and  embarrassing  shortage  for 
the  compiler  of  the  next  English  dictionary  to  face. 

I  don't  profess  to  be  a  logomachist,  philologist,  or 
neologist,  but  I  am  tempted  to  quote  the  banker- 
poet  Rogers.  "  The  new  fashionable  pronunciation  of 
"several  words,  is,  to  me  at  least,  very  offensive. 
"  Contem'plate  is  bad  enough,  but  balcony  makes  me 
"sick."  Poor  man,  what  must  he  have  suffered  on 
running  up  against  talented — the  new-born  word — 
not  to  be  found  in  old  dictionaries — which  may  be 
said  now,  to  overrun  the  whole  field  of  literature  ! 
Ending  in  ed  it  should  be  a  participial  adjective  based 
on  a  verb  ;  but  where  is  the  veil)  to  talent  ?  Skeat 
assigns  its  birth  to  "  before  1700."  Timbs,  in  his 
Things  not  Generallt/  Known,  says  that  the  word 
*'  cant  "  is  derived  from  the  surname  of  two  Scottish 
clergymen  (father  and  son)  named  Andrew  Cant, 
temf.  Charles  II.  This  looks  as  if  it  ought  to  be 
true,  but  it  isn't.  The  word  is  as  ancient  as  the 
language.  I  know  that  the  derivation  is  given  as 
from  "  cantus  "  in  all  the  old  dictionaries  ;  and,  if  I 
don't  greatly  mistake,  it  occui's  in  Chaucer.  In 
another  case,  Todd,  in  his  "  emended  "  edition  of 
Johnson  (1818),  says  that  "  fudge  "  was  first  used  by 
Goldsmith.  Mr.  Bui'chell,  in  the  Vicar  of  Wakefield, 
I  know,  exclaims,  "  Fudge  !  "  But,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  the  word  was  in  common  use  at  an  earher  date. 
It  was  said  to  owe  its  origin  to  a  Captain  Fudge,  a 


''  FUDGE  "  255 

seaman,  who  was  so  noted  for  drawing  the  long  bow, 
that  anything  incredible  came  to  be  spoken  of  as 
"  all  Fudge."  He  added  this  new  word  to  the 
language  [just  as  Captain  Boycott  did  another  within 
living  memory].  Captain  Fudge  will  be  found 
mentioned,  according  to  the  Curiosities  of  Literature, 
in  a  pamphlet  entitled  Remarks  wpon  the  Navy, 
1770. 

I  have  been  unable  to  find  a  copy  of  this  pamphlet 
in  the  British  Museum,  but  there  is  another,  dated 
1712,  entitled  Posthuma  Christiana,  by  William 
Crouch,  in  which  the  following  sentence  occurs : 
"  We  were  put  on  board  the  ship,  the  fourth  of  the 
"  sixth  month,  1665.  The  master's  name  was  Fudge." 
This  confirmed  the  existence  of  the  individual,  but 
still  left  the  doubt  unsolved  as  to  the  antiquity  of  the 
word  as  an  expletive.  Wright,  in  his  English  Dialect 
Dictionary,  discusses  the  question  as  to  whether  its 
origin  is  Enghsh,  Scotch,  or  Manx  ;  while  Skeat,  in  his 
Etymological  Dictionary,  assigns  it  to  Walloon  or  Low 
German.     And  there  I  leave  it. 


BUT  let  me  turn  now  to  a  topic  of  more  universal 
interest — longevity,  which  specially  appeals 
to  me,  and  may  fittingly  close   my  literary 
output. 


256  OMNIANA 

Ai'c  there  any  general  ruleis  to  be  laid  down  in 
order  to  attain  it ;  or,  is  it  a  haphazard  result  depend- 
ing on  fortuitous  circumstances  ?  How  is  it,  for 
instance,  that  1  happen  to  be  above  gi'ound  when, 
in  the  ordinary  course  of  things,  I  should  be  under  it  ? 
The  pagan  and  the  Christian  appear  to  agree  as  to  an 
age  limit.  1  think  it  is  Varro  who  says  that  when  a 
man  becomes  an  octogenarian  he  should  make  haste 
to  pack  up  his  luggage  ;  and  the  Scriptural  pronounce- 
ment is  very  much  to  the  same  effect.  Yet  many 
modern  instances  go  to  refute  the  theory.  I  remember 
that  two  generations  ago,  a  controversy  was  started 
in  the  Gentleman  s  Magazine,  as  "to  whether  there 
were  any  authenticated  instances  of  men  reaching  the 
age  of  a  hundred  ;  now  nobody  doubts  the  fact ;  for 
it  has  been  conclusively  proved  over  and  over  again. 
The  question  is — can  we  arrive  at  any  fixed  rules  for 
the  attainment  of  old  age,  or  shall  things  be  left  to 
chance  ?  1  think  every  exceptionally  old  man's 
record  is  worth  noting,  for,  thus,  an  accumulation  of 
facts  may  be  available,  by-and-bye,  from  which  the 
statistician,  in  the  near  future,  may  be  able  to  deduce 
inferences,  and  arrive  at,  and  codify  his  conclusions. 
Not  that  I  myself  am  much  of  a  believer  in  the  con- 
clusions of  the  statistician.  Such  a  man,  seeking  the 
exact  time  of  day,  may  go  into  a  clock-maker's  shop  ; 
note  down  the  various  hours,  pointed  to  by  each 
individual  clock  ;  take  an  average  ;  and  accept  the 
result,  as  conclusive  and  satisfactory,  according  to 


rhoto:  L(ifinictt,\  DuhJin.] 


J.    F.    FULLER,    AGED   80. 


LONGEVITY  257 

statistics.  But  I  should  not  be  convinced  by 
his  conchisions ;  I  should  want  more  reliable 
data. 

The  elixir  vitce  has  not  been  discovered,  and  the 
alchemists  who  looked  for  it  are  dead.  A  prescription 
which  could  be  rehed  on  for  the  attainment  of  old 
age,  has  yet  to  be  found.  True  there  is  one  which  has 
the  hall-mark  of  authority  about  it,  and  is  familiar 
to  us,  through  Moses,  as  the  fifth  Commandment ;  and 
is  commended  as  a  means  of  ensuring  that  our  "  days 
may  be  long  in  the  land  "  ;  but  there  is  a  manifest 
difficulty  in  this  receipt,  which  must  be,  at  times, 
discouraging  to  the  behever  in  "  verbal  inspiration  "  ; 
for  parents  have  died,  and  will  continue  to  die  during 
the  childhood  of  their  offspring,  or  before  their  birth, 
which  must,  necessarily,  handicap  a  portion  of  the 
community,  and  render  the  injunction  impossible  of 
fulfilment.  While,  apart  altogether  from  this,  perhaps, 
captious  objection,  it  must  appear  to  the  sceptical 
caviller,  that  the  Commandment,  even  when  obeyed 
• — as,  indeed,  to  the  credit  of  human  nature,  it  pretty 
generally  is— has  as  little  to  do  with  longevity  as  it  has 
with  the  opposite  ;  and  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  its 
observance  neither  lengthens  nor  shortens  the  span 
of  life  :  in  other  words,  that  the  mandate  is  imbued 
with  that  inconclusiveness  which  appears  to  lie 
inseparable  from  dogmatic  theology. 

We  have  to  consider  the  question  from  a  lower 
plane. 


258  OMNIANA 

The  highly  strung  intellectual  man  may  wear  out 
his  body  by  too  strenuous  mental  labour,  resulting 
in  lasting  benefit  to  humanity  ;  and  the  scientist  may 
kill  himself  in  the  pursuit  of  experiments  made  with 
the  same  laudable  result.  But  if  the  lives  of  some 
be  short  in  a  literal  sense,  yet,  looked  at  from  a  higher 
standpoint,  though  they  die  soon,  they  may  live 
long — 

"  in  deeds,  not  years, 
In  feelings,  not  in  figures  on  a  dial. 

.  .  .  He  most  lives 
AVho  thinks  most,  feels  the  noblest,  acts  the  best." 

I  don't  remember  whether  this  fine  quotation  is  from 
Bailey's  Festus  or  from  Browning's  poems  ;  but  I 
do  remember  that  Bolingbroke  says  the  same  thing  in 
prose,  and  I  copy  it  from  his  Essay  on  the  Spirit  of 
Patriotism.  "  The  duration  of  men's  lives  is  to  be 
"  determined,  I  think,  by  the  length  and  importance 
"  of  the  parts  they  act,  not  by  the  number  of  years 
"  they  pass  between  their  coming  into  the  world  and 
"  going  out  of  it.  Whether  the  play  be  of  three  or 
"  five  acts,  the  part  may  be  long ;  and  he  who 
"  sustains  it  through  the  whole,  may  be  said  to 
'*  die  in  the  fullness  of  years ;  while  he  who 
"  declines  it  sooner  may  be  said  not  to  live  out 
"  half  his  days."  This  is  undoubtedly  true,  but 
l)eside  the  mark.  The  quotations  refer  to  intel- 
lectual longevity  ;  but  I  deal  with  the  mere  physical 
longevity  of  the  unrenowned — of  the  ordinary  Dick, 
Tom,  and  Harry  ;    not  with  })eacon-lights,  but  with 


DOCTORS  259 

the  commonplace  taper,  and  how  best  to  prolong 
its  existence  and  keep  it  alight ; — in  fact,  with  the 
average  healthy  animal,  of  which  I  myself  may  be 
taken  as  a  type. 

Endowed  with  the  usual  amount  of  common  sense, 
the  point  is  how  to  apply  this  common  sense  to  the  best 
advantage,  with  a  view  to  securing  longevity.  Here- 
tofore I  have  baffled  the  enemy  by  keeping  the 
physician  out  of  the  citadel,  and  the  surgeon  off  the 
suburbs.  Even  the  dentist — that  indubitable  friend 
to  humanity — is  as  yet  a  stranger  to  me.  I  have  had 
"  no  vacancy  "  for  him  to  fill,  being  able  to  crack  a 
nut  as  easily  as  a  joke.  Once  the  two  former  make 
good  their  footing,  under  the  guise  of  friends,  the 
game  is  up.  It  is  not  in  the  power  of  everybody  to 
resist  them,  however.  Fortunate,  indeed,  are  those 
who  can.  A  good  deal  might  be  said  in  favour  of  the 
Chinese  custom.  I  have  read  that  when  a  sick  man, 
in  China,  sends  for  a  doctor,  he  does  not  tell  his 
ailment — the  doctor  has  to  find  it  out ;  but  the 
commentator  adds,  ''it  is  an  open  question  whether 
he  is  as  clever  at  curing  as  in  discovering  the  malady." 
A  Spanish  writer  has  much  to  the  same  effect :  "  Send 
for  your  physician  when  you  are  well,  and  give 
money  because  you  are  not  sick ;  for,  if  you 
give  it  when  you  are  ill,  how  can  you  expect 
he  should  restore  you  to  health — which  he  gets 
nothing  by  ?  " 
Some   time   ago,   dipping  into  a   volume   of  the 


260  OMNIANA 

Genthman's    Magazine,    I    came    npon    an    obituary 

notice  of  a  centenarian  which  wound  up  with  the 

statement  that  "  in  the  whole  course  of  his  life  he 

never  laid  out  a  farthing  on  medicine."     Montaigne 

has   some   amusing   remarks   on   the   same   subject. 

"  By  some  secret  and  natural  instinct,"  he  says,  his 

ancestors  had  an  aversion  to  physic.     His  father  and 

gi'andfather  never  took  any.     "  An  uncle  who  fell 

"  into  a  fever,  was  told  that,  if  he  did  not  avail 

"  himself  of  the  advice  of  the  doctors  he  would,  of  a 

"  certainty,  die  ;  and  he  made  answer  :   '  I  am,  then, 

"  a  dead  man.'     But  God  soon  made  the  prognostic 

"  false ;     while    another    uncle,    the   youngest,    suc- 

"  cumbed  in  early  life."     I  am,  here,  reminded  of 

"  old  Sarah  "  Duchess  of  Marlborough,  of  pugnacious 

memory,  who  when  her  physician  told  her  she  "  must 

either  be  blooded  or  die,"  retorted,  "  I  will  neither 

be  blooded,   sir,   nor   will   I   die,"   and   she   didn't. 

Another  famous  woman,  Madame  de  Sevigne,  says, 

caustically,  in  a  letter  to  a  friend,  that,  having  no 

physician  in  her  illness,   she   "  had  only  to  recover 

from  sickness  and  not  from  medicines." 

Disraeli  quotes  Nicocles  as  saying  of  doctors, 
"  they  are  specially  favoured  because  the  sun  gives 
"  light  to  their  successes,  while  the  earth  covers  their 
"  failures  ;  and  none,  with  impunity,  can  kill  so 
"  many."  But  Montaigne's  summing  up  is  likely 
enough  to  fit  the  majority  of  us  :  "  I  do  not  promise 
"  that,  some  day,  1  may  not  be  such  a  fool  as  to 


DIET  261 

"  coniinit  my  life  to  the  mercy  of  physiciaus  ;  !)ut, 
"  give  me  licaltli,  in  God's  name  !  "  * 

A  good  sound  constitution  is,  undoubtedly,  the 
best  and  most  valuable  of  all  possessions  :  the  wonder 
is  that  any  one,  having  got  it,  should  undervalue,  or 
knowingly  undermine  it.  This,  of  course,  can  be  done 
in  many  ways  ;  but  1  am  convinced  that  the  com- 
monest way  of  all  is  by  over-eating.  I  have  lived 
for  more  than  half  a  century  on  two  meals  a  day. 
Undoubtedly  this  over-eating  has  more  to  answer 
for,  than  excessive  drinking  of  spirituous  Hquor. 
When  both  are  combined  longevity  is  hardly  to  be 
hoped  for.  Roughly  speaking,  I  should  say  that  the 
average  business  Enghshman  eats  three  times  as  much 
as  the  Irishman.  There  are  individual  exceptions, 
of  course  ;  but,  the  higher  up  you  go,  the  more 
varieties  of  food  and  the  less  weight,  as  a  rule. 

I  remember  that,  soon  after  I  was  "  articled  "  in 
London,  a  good-hearted  chap,  a  fellow-pupil,  invited 
me  to  spend  a  week-end  with  him  at  his  father's 
house  in  Tottenham.  The  pater  was  a  typical  John 
Bull  of  his  class,  a  coal  merchant,  hving  in  a  fine 
mansion,  and  faring  sumptuously  every  day.  I  shall 
never  forget  the  breakfast  I  saw  him  eat.  He  sat  in 
front  of  a  joint  of  cold  roast  beef  ;  and,  at  his  side 
stood  a  tankard  of  ale.     It  appeared  to  me  that  he 

*  However,  one  should  not  be  unjust.  When  I  began  to  write,  war 
was  only  "  in  the  air."  Now  words  would  fail  me  if  I  tried  to  give 
expression  (o  the  debt  which  sufferhig  humanity  owes  to  the  heroic 
self-saurihcuig  phyoiciaus  and  surgeons  al  home  and  abroad. 


262  OMNIANA 

put  away  as  much  solid  and  liquid,  at  that  single  meal, 
as  would  have  done  me  for  a  week  ;  yet  I  foimd  that 
four  other  meals  followed  it,  before  bed-time.  A 
constitution  which  could  stand — or  withstand  all  this 
to  middle  age,  should,  it  seemed  to  me,  if  fairly  dealt 
with,  be  capable  of  holding  out  to  a  hundred  and 
fifty.  Apoplexy,  in  his  case,  intervened.  The  son 
renounced  architecture,  took  to  coal  and  a  similar  style 
of  living,  and  probably  ended,  like  the  father — 
abruptly  and  long  before  his  time.  1  lost  sight  of 
him.  His  was  only  one  case,  but  it  was  a  typical 
one  :  here  is  another.  John  Taylor  [better  known  to 
literary  men  as  "  Taylor  the  Water  poet "]  gives  a 
curious  account  of  a  trencher-man  named  Nicholas 
Wood  of  the  parish  of  Harrison,  Co.  Kent.  '*  Once, 
"  at  Sir  Warham  Saint  Leger's  house,  he  showed 
' '  himself  so  valiant  of  teeth  and  stomach  that  he  ate 
"  as  much  as  would  have  sufficed  thirty  men,  so  that 
"  his  pawnch  w^as  like  to  break,  but  that  the  serving 
"  men  hurried  him  to  the  fire,  and  anoynted  him  with 
"grease  and  butter,  to  make  it  stretch  and  hold; 
"and  afterwards,  being  layed  in  bed,  he  slept  eight 
*'  liowers  ;  which,  when  the  Knight  understood,  he 
"  commanded  him  to  be  laid  in  the  stocks,  and  there 
"  to  endure  as  long  as  he  had  lain  bed-rid  with  eating." 
It  is  a  pity  that  there  is  no  record  of  his  age. 

Obviously,  there  is  ample  room  for  retrenchment 
all  round.  Margaret,  Duchess  of  Newcastle,  in  her 
life  of  the  famous  and  gallant  Duke,  her  husband, 


DRINK  263 

says  :  "  He  is  so  sparing  and  temperate  that  he  never 
"  eats  or  drinks  beyond  his  proportion,  so  as  to  satisfy 
"  only  his  natural  appetite  ;  he  makes  but  one  (heavy) 
"  meal  a  day,  at  which  he  drinks  two  glasses  of  small 
"  beer,  one  at  the  beginning,  the  other  at  the  end, 
"  and  a  little  glass  of  sack  in  the  middle  of  his  dinner  ; 
"  which  glass  of  sack  he  also  takes  in  the  morning 
"  for  his  breakfast  with  a  morsel  of  bread.  His 
"  supper  consists  of  an  egg  and  a  draught  of  small 
"  beer ;  and,  by  this  temperance,  he  finds  himself 
"  very  healthful,  he  being  now  of  the  age  of  seventy- 
"  three."  I  find  that  he  Hved  to  be  eighty-four,  and 
died  in  1676.  Probably,  were  it  not  for  the  strenuous 
hfe  he  led,  and  the  hardship  and  poverty  he  had  to 
undergo,  he  would  have  survived  for  many  years 
more. 

Now  as  to  intoxicating  liquor.  I  am  not  a  total 
abstainer,  but  my  habitual  drink  is  water.  I  would 
give  a  pronounced  toper  no  quarter.  Seneca  thinks 
that  a  philosopher  may  occasionally  be  permitted — 
with  benefit  to  his  health — to  get  drunk.  I  am  not  a 
philosopher,  and  I  never  have  been  drunk  ;  so  that  I 
cannot  give  an  expert  opinion  either  way  ;  but  I 
have  heard  the  same  thing  said  about  sea-sickness 
and  its  beneficial  effect.  Well,  I  have  suffered  from 
that  malady,  and  can  only  say  that  I  would  rather 
dispense  with  the  benefit,  than  undergo  the  ordeal 
necessary  to  acquire  it.  I  am  sorry  to  disagree  with 
so  great  a  man  as  Seneca  ;   but  it  appears  to  me  that 


204  OMNI  ANA 

all    that    can    be    urged    in    arguiiient — as    between 
medicine  and  drink — has  been  advanced  by  Rabelais, 
when  he  says  that  "  drunkenness  is  better  than  physic 
"  because  there  are   more  old   drunkards  than   old 
"doctors."     There  is  more  reason  and  common  sense 
in  this,  anyhow,  than  in  the  contention  that  because 
the  great  Cato  over-indulged,  therefore  drunkenness 
could  not  be  a  vice.     Cajsar  tells  us  how,  when  people 
met  him  reeling  home  in  his  cups,  they  blushed  and 
were  ashamed  of  themselves,  because  they  saw  him  ; 
and  Seneca  adds  that  one  shall  more  easily  prove 
drunkenness  to  be  a  virtue  than  that  Cato  was  to 
blame.     Similarly,  it  was  said  that  Sheridan  was  not 
disgraced  by  his  love  of  the  bottle,  but  that  the  bottle 
was  honoured  by  his  devotion.     This  may  be  a  smart 
way  of  putting  it,  but  that  is  all.     Suffice  it  to  say 
that  it  remains  the  height  of  unwisdom  "  to  turn  our 
"body  into  a  cask  (as  old  Burton  has  it)   to  hold 
"  wine — nay    worse    than   a    cask,    which   mars    the 
"  wine,  yet  itself  is  not  marred  by  it."  '^ 

We  often  hear  the  exclamation  :   "  Oh  !   the  man 

*  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  :  The  man  who  has  not  read  his  Burton  has 
missed  much.  This  delightful  old  bachelor  parson  is  simply  "'  immense." 
Dr.  Johnson  declared  that  his  book  was  the  only  one  that  could  get  him 
out  of  bed  two  hours  before  the  usual  time.  In  the  modem  edition 
(1913),  Mr.  A.  H.  BuUen,  in  the  introduction,  says — "  Stir  the  fire  and 
Hll  the  cup!  Robert  Burton  redivivus.  Kindliest  sprite  that  ever 
ferried  across  the  Styx,  a  health  to  you  !  Since  my  days  began  I  have 
loved  you — ^you  and  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  and  Fuller,  and  Charles 
Lamb."  Anthony  a  Wood  tells  us  that  Burton's  publisher  Crippa 
made  a  fortune  out  of  him. 


OLD   MEN  265 

made  a  beast  of  liiiiiself  by  getting  drunk."  How 
unjust !  What  beast  would  voluntarily  so  humanise 
himself  ?  "  Beastly  drunk  "  is  a  Hbel  on  the  brute 
creation — as  old  Tom  Fuller  rightly  observes.  How- 
ever, it  is  not  safe  to  be  too  pragmatical.  We  are 
told  that  the  otherwise  worthy  old  gentleman,  Noah, 
took  on  occasions  more  than  was  good  for  him.  He 
was  not  a  total  abstainer  ;  yet  he  lived  to  wdthin 
nineteen  years  of  being  as  old  as  his  ancestor 
Methuselah.  And,  to  come  yet  nearer  to  our  own 
time,  I  find  that  the  famous  Old  Parr,  who  Hved  to  be 
152,  declared  it  to  be  a  crime  in  a  young  man  not  to 
lay  in  a  good  cellar  of  port  in  his  youth,  for  con- 
sumption in  his  old  age.* 

Or  again,  take  the  case  of  Daniel  McCarthy,  Esq., 
of  my  own  county  of  Kerry,  who  died  in  1752,  aged 
112.  "  He  buried  four  wives.  His  fifth  is  now  a 
"  widow,  married  at  fourteen,  when  he  was  eighty-four, 
"  and  by  whom  he  had  twenty  children.  No  cold 
"  ever  affected  him.  He  could  not  bear  the  warmth 
"  of  a  shirt  at  night.  He  drank  plentifully  of  rum 
*'  and  brandy,  which  he  called  '  the  naked  truth  '  ; 
"  and  if  he  drank  claret  or  punch  he  also  took  an 
"  equal  glass  of  rum  or  brandy  '  to  qualify  those 
"  hquors  '  and  which  he  called  a  '  wedge.'  No  man 
"  ever  saw  him  spit.     His  custom  was  to  walk  eight 

*  I  find  the  following  relevant  note  in  Exlmid's  Magazine,  Dublin, 
July,  1761.  '■  At  Milchclstown,  Co.  Cork,  John  Newell  in  the  127tli 
year  of  his  age.  He  retained  his  senses  to  the  last,  and  «as  grandson 
of  Old  Parr  who  lived  to  be  152  years  of  age." 


266  OMNI  ANA 

"  or  ten  miles  on  a  winter  morning,  over  mountains, 
"  with  greyhounds  and  terriers,  and  he  seldom  failed 
"  to  bring  home  a  brace  of  hares."  * 

Then  again  there  was  Cardinal  de  Salis,  Ai'ch- 
bishop  of  Seville,  mHo  lived  to  be  119  years  8  months 
and  14  days  old.  When  asked  what  regimen  he 
observed  he  answered  :  "  By  being  old  while  I  was 
"  young,  I  find  myself  young  now  I  am  old.  My  diet 
*'  has  been  sparing,  and  my  liquors  the  best  wine  of 
"  Xeres  and  La  Mancha,  of  which  I  never  exceed  a 
"  pint  at  any  meal,  except  in  cold  weather,  when  I 
"  allow  myself  a  third  more."  This  great  and  long- 
lived  man  was  clearly  not  a  total  abstainer. 

I  only  give  my  own  opinion  for  what  it  is  worth  in 
the  face  of  such  conflicting  examples. 

Indulgence  in  tobacco  is  a  question  on  which 
there  is  also  much  divergence  of  opinion.  The 
philosophe]-,  Hobbes,  was  an  inveterate  smoker,  and 
wrote  in  an  atmosphere  of  tobacco  smoke.  He  lived 
to  be  ninety-two.  I  have  been  a  smoker  almost  as 
long  as  I  can  remember — but  always  of  a  pipe  ;  and 
I  never  indulge  till  after  dinner.  My  time  for  it  is 
from  eight  o'clock  till  half-past  ten.  Some  persons 
assert  that  "  smoking  leads  to  drinking  " — so  it  may, 
but,  in  my  case,  the  craving  is  satisfied  by  a  tumbler  of 
water  taken  just  before  "  turning  in."  The  enemies 
of  tobacco  put  themselves  out  of  court  by  prejudice 

*  Gmiid  Gazetteer,  February  29,  1751-2;  bee  also  Antiquary,  vol. 
ix,  p.  219. 


SMOKING  267 

and  exaggeration :  this  has  been  so  from  the 
beginning,  when  that  egregious  old  pedant  James  the 
First,  in  his  Counterblast,  spoke  of  the  "  hurtful  use 
"of  this  stinking  fumigation;  a  custom  loathsome 
"  to  the  eye,  hateful  to  the  nose,  harmful  to  the 
"  brain,  dangerous  to  the  lungs  ;  and,  in  the  black, 
*'  stinldng  fume  thereof,  nearest  resembhng  the 
**  horrible  Stigian  smoke  of  the  pit  that  is  bottomless." 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  dear  old  Parson  Burton  is 
equally  emphatic  in  his  condemnation.*  What  would 
he  think  now  of  bishops  and  clergymen  who  indulge  in 
cigars  and  pipes,  and  of  ladies  who  indulge  in  cigar- 
ettes ?  But  there  is  nothing  in  these  terrible  indict- 
ments about  the  injurious  effect  of  tobacco  on  the 
teeth.  It  is  quite  a  common  accusation  nowadays, 
to  say  it  ruins  them.  Well,  all  I  can  say  is  that — 
from  my  own  experience — it  doesn't.  After  nearly 
eighty  years'  active  use,  during  which  they  have 
been  under  tobacco  ill-treatment  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  time,  the  result  is  that  they  are  equal 
still  to  any  demand  upon  them— though  they  are  not 
white,  I  admit.  In  a  word,  I  hold  the  "  weed  "  to 
be  grossly  mahgned,  and  I  believe  it  to  be  inimical 
to  mouth  microbes.  However,  I  don't  pretend  to 
settle  the  controversy.  Even  while  I  write,  I  find 
in  two  daily  papers  of  the  same  date  the  following  : — 

*  Anatomy  of  Melancholy. 


268  OMNIANA 

The  Grand  Old  Anti-Tobacconist. 
"  Really  Lord  Halsbuiy  is  the  most  wondciiul 
old  man  of  the  time.  Here  he  is  at  nearly  ninety 
jxiviny:  notice  in  the  Lords  of  a  Bill  to  deal  with 
certain  company  questions  with  a  direct  bearing 
on  the  war  and  the  Huns.  1  don't  know  whether 
Lord  Halsbury  puts  his  evergreenness  to  the  credit 
of  his  hatred  of  smoking,  but  the  fact  remains  that 
no  man  ahve  is  more  ardent  in  his  hatred  oj  tobacco.'''' 

Till'  Oldest  Man  Living. 

"  The  oldest  man  hving  is  said  to  be  a  Welsh 
American,  one  Thomas  Morris,  of  Watervillc,  Custer 
County,  Nebraska,  who  has  attained  the  age  of  121 
years.  From  some  particulars  supphed  by  the 
"  Liverpool  Post  "  we  gather  that  Morris  has  Hved 
under  every  President  of  the  United  States.  He  was 
three  years  of  age  when  Washington  ended  his  two 
terms  of  office,  and  he  is  still  strong  and  healthy  on 
his  farm  in  Nebraska.  He  was  eleven  years  old 
when  Nelson  won  Trafalgar,  twenty-one  years  old 
when  England  and  Ireland  were  united  ;  he  was 
sixty-four  when  the  Atlantic  cable  was  laid  down, 
and  seventy  when  Lincoln  was  assassinated.  Morris 
has  always  smoked,  and  he  drinks  tea  or  coffee  with 
every  meal." 

Teeth,  anyhow,  no  matter  what  their  colour,  are 
essential  to  health.     There  is  no  difference  of  opinion 


FRESH    AIR  2G9 

on  this  point ;  and  nowadays,  dentistry  has  reached 
such  a  pitch  of  perfection,  that  difficulties  which  beset 
our  ancestors,  have  been  quite  overcome  ;  and  the 
modern  man  has  no  excuse  for  having  fewer  teeth 
than  fingers  and  toes. 

How  about  fresh  air  ?  All  the  year  round  I  sleep 
with  window  open  ;  and  now,  in  my  old  age,  I  can 
sometimes  feel,  as  I  he  in  bed,  the  scant  hairs  on  my 
nearly  bald  head  moved — like  antennse^ — by  the  air 
in  circulation  about  me.  The  "  smell  of  imprisoned 
sleep,"  as  Dickens  calls  it,  should  never  be  detectable 
in  a  wholesome  bedroom  by  a  visitoi'  entering  at  any 
hour  of  the  night  or  morning.  One  can  always 
"  nose  "  it  in  an  un ventilated  chamber.  Thorough 
draught  is,  of  course,  bad  ;  but  if  the  body  is  kept 
warm,  fresh  air  will  injure  no  one.  "  Oh,  but  night 
air — isn't  that  injurious  ?  "  some  persons  ask.  No, 
it  isn't,  nothing  of  the  sort.  Any  external  air  which 
you  habitually  exclude,  is  more  wholesome  than  that 
which  you  shut  in  and  breathe  till  it  becomes  foul. 
Country  air,  by  night  or  day,  has  health  in  it ;  and, 
the  night  air  of  great  cities  is  purer  than  the  air  by 
day.  Those  who  are  in  the  habit  of  shutting  windows 
and  imprisoning  sleep,  will  say,  "  Oh,  but  we  open 
them,  the  first  thing,  when  we  get  up  :  "  that's  when 
they  may  with  safety  be  shut,  at  all  events  in  winter. 

And  here,  quite  naturally,  the  subject  of  the 
matutinal  "  tub "  fits  in.  I  don't  indulge  in  it 
regularly,  and  I  do  without  it  in  wintry  weather  ; 


270  OMNIANA 

for  I  can't  be  convinced  that  it  is  conducive  to  health 
or  vigour,  to  tumble  into  a  cold  bath,  out  of  a  warm 
bed,  on  a  frosty  morning.  In  summer  the  daily 
plunge  is  agreeable  ;  but  in  winter  it  simply  isn't, 
and  I  don't  take  it.  I  hold  with  J.  M.  Barrie's  old 
Scotchman  that  "  cleanliness  is  a  vara  guid  thing,  in 
moderation  "  ;  but  cleanliness  does  not  call  for  a 
daily  bath,  in  all  weathers  and  in  all  climates.  The 
lofty  superiority  which  the  Englishman  assumes  over 
men  of  other  nationalities  because  he  "  tubs  "  every 
day,  and  they  do  not,  has  nothing  to  sustain  it 
stronger  than  that  self-sufficiency  which  the  modern 
John  Bull  never  puts  off.  It  appears  to  me  that 
Enghshmen  in  the  time  of  the  first  Edward,  when  they 
had  neither  baths  nor  soap,  were,  to  say  the  least  of  it, 
not  inferior  to  those  of  the  time  of  the  last  Edward  ; 
nor  those  of  the  Ehzabethan  era  inferior  to  the 
Victorian,  morally,  physically,  socially,  or  intel- 
lectually. You  may  take  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
five  baths  in  the  year.  No  one  questions  your  right ; 
but  I  decline  to  admit  that  I  am  an  inferior  person 
or  a  dirtier  one,  because  I  only  take  fifty-two. 

But,  after  all,  it  is  only  a  question  of  degree  :  let 
us  all  be  thankful  for  soap  and  tooth  brushes.  It  is 
interesting  to  take  passing  note  of  the  estimation  in 
which  both  these  necessary  articles  were  held  in  the 
United  States,  three-quarters  of  a  century  ago.  I 
take  the  following  from  Incidents  of  my  Life,  by  J.  A. 
Emmet,  M.D.,  LL.D.,  pubhshed  by  Putnam  and  Sons, 


A  CHAINED   TOOTH-BRUSH  271 

New  York,  1911.  "On  arrival  at  Aquia  Creek  every 
one  made  an  effort  to  get  washed  off  for  the  day.  This 
performance  was  accomphshed  in  a  narrow  room  open 
at  each  end.  There  were  several  tin  basins,  from 
which  the  contents,  when  last  used,  had  been  emptied 
without  any  further  attention,  and  consequently 
they  were  always  soapy.  There  was  a  barrel  open 
at  the  top,  filled  with  water,  and  a  dipper  fastened  to 
the  wall  by  a  short  rope.  There  was  a  roller  towel 
at  the  door,  and  soap  was  handed  from  one  person  to 
another.  There  was  a  chained  tooth-brush,  handy  to 
the  barrel  and  the  differ ;  and  after  the  teeth  had  been 
cleaned,  the  choice  was  given  of  emftijing  the  contents  of 
the  differ  into  the  barrel  or  on  to  the  floor.'"  In  another 
part  of  his  book  he  tells  of  the  chained  tooth-brush 
in  a  private  house  in  New  York.  The  name  of  the 
author  and  the  name  of  the  pubhsher  are  sufficient 
guarantee  for  the  truth  of  the  statement. 

Opinions  differ  as  to  the  amount  of  sleep  necessary 
for  health.  John  Wesley- — that  "  human  game-cock," 
as  Leshe  Stephen  calls  him — did  with  five  to  six 
hours'  sleep  ;  and  could  "  drop  off  "  at  any  moment. 
He  ascribes  his  health  to  early  rising,  physical 
exercise,  air,  and  regular  preaching  ;  but  I  doubt  if 
the  last  item  should  really  count :  it  would  handicap 
the  layman  unduly.  Anyhow,  he  held  forth  to  a 
gathering  of  twenty-five  thousand  when  he  was 
eighty-six.  But,  it  may  safely  be  argued  that  it 
was  his  rule  of  life  which  gave  him  the  vigour  to 


272  OMNIANA 

preach,  and  not  the  preaching  which  sustained  his 
vitahty.  The  plain  Enghsli  of  it  is  that  something 
to  do  is  better  than  idleness  ;  we  know  that  "  the 
labour  we  delight  in  physics  pain  "  ;  and  that  John 
Wesley  loved  preaching — which  is  equivalent  to  saying 
that  it  agreed  with  him. 

But  over-exertion  of  mind  or  body  must  be 
injurious' — doubly  so  if  both  are  taxed  together, 
which  is  tantamount  to  burning  the  candle  at  both 
ends.  The  gi'eat  Sanmel  Clarke  is  a  case  in  point. 
He  unduly  exercised  his  brain  on  logic,  and  took 
ultra-physical  exercise  by  jumping  over  tables  and 
chairs  ;  and,  as  a  consequence,  he  only  lived  to  be 
fifty-four. 

What  the  normal  age  of  man  should  be  is  a  moot 
point,  and  likely  to  remain  so.  We  need  not  stop  to 
consider  seriously  the  Biblical  statements  as  to 
longevity  ;  but  I  don't  think  it  unreasonable  to  take 
a  hundred  years  as  a  fair  average  for  a  community 
starting  sound  in  wind  and  limb.  The  unit  has 
often  reached  this  age,  and  many  live  beyond  it ; 
but  how  to  get  the  community  up  to  this  standard 
still  remains  a  difficulty.  Eugenics,  later  on,  may  do 
much,  backed  up  by  common  sense  ;  but,  common 
sense  is  too  apt  to  go  about  bhndfolded.  It  is 
perfectly  manifest  that  the  vast  majority  of  us  put 
an  end  to  our  lives  before  the  time  is  up  :  in  other 
words,  we  commit  suicide  in  practice,  though  we 
indignantly  repudiate  it  in  theory.     True,  we  do  not 


PARACELSUS  273 

deliberately  cut  our  throat,  as  a  rule ;  but,  we  use  it, 
all  the  same,  as  a  channel  to  effect  felo-de-se.  The 
process  may  be  slow,  but  it  is  not  the  less  sure  ;  and 
is  just  as  much  self-destruction  as  the  more  summary 
processes. 

Paracelsus  brags  that  he  could  make  a  man  live 
four  hundred  years,  if  he  had  his  bringing-up  from 
infancy.  But  he  was  an  old  charlatan,  to  some  of 
whose  statements,  nowadays,  nobody  gives  heed. 
Anyhow,  he  did  not  get  a  chance  to  try  the  experi- 
ment on  himself ;  and,  if  he  had,  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
he  would  have  insisted,  at  all  events,  on  his  right  to 
mother's  milk  at  the  start.  The  modern  baby  has 
much  just  cause  of  complaint :  it  seldom  gets  a  fair 
chance  to  begin  with,  and  is  too  often  unduly  weighted 
in  the  race  for  Hfe. 

But  hard  and  fast  rules  and  receipts  for  long 
life  can  neither  be  laid  down,  nor,  if  they  could, 
would  they  be  followed  by  the  majority  of  wayward 
humanity.  A  curious  book  on  Human  Longevity,  by 
a  man  named  Easton,  was  pubhshed  in  Salisbury 
in  1799.  In  it,  he  gives  many  cases  of  persons  over 
one  hundred  years  of  age,  in  his  time  ;  and  the  moral 
which  he  inculcates  is,  that  moderation  is  the  best 
physic.  He  says  a  Mrs.  Chun  reached  138  "  by 
frequent  exercise  and  temperate  living  "  ;  and  another 
case  cited  by  him  is  that  of  Mrs.  Keithe,  aged  133, 
of  whom  he  says,  "  she  hved  moderately."  On 
the  other  hand,  I  find  a  John  B.  Bailey  in  a  book 


274  OMNIANA 

entitled  Modern  Methuselahs ,  stating  that  "  it  is 
vain  to  seek  for  any  one  feature  which  would  satis- 
factorily determine  to  what  they  (the  aged)  were 
indebted  for  hves  extended  far  beyond  the  usual 
term."  Another  Bailey  (Thomas,  father  of  the 
famous  and  long-hved  author  of  Festiis)  strikes  the 
same  note  in  a  book  entitled  Records  of  Longevity, 
Many  authors  might  be  quoted  to  the  same  effect ; 
and  it  is  a  long  step  from,  let  us  say,  Celsus  to  Bacon, 
who  laid  down  rules  for  Avhat  he  called  "  long  lasting  " 
— but  died  at  sixty-six.  St.  Anthony  the  Great  seems 
to  have  defied  all  rules.  He  was  a  bachelor ;  lived 
on  a  few  ounces  of  bread  daily,  soaked  in  water ; 
never  changed  his  garments  night  or  day  ;  and  never 
— of  his  own  free  will — washed  himself.  Yet  he 
hved  to  be  105.  The  Rev.  W.  Davis,  incumbent  of 
Stanton-on-Wye,  Avho  died  in  1790,  and  hved  also  to 
be  105,  breakfasted  on  hot  buttered  rolls,  had  hot 
roast  meat  for  supper,  and  drank  wine. 

With  all  these  facts  staring  me  in  the  face,  I  can't 
presume  to  dogmatise  ;  I  will  only  say  that  if  a  man 
has  reached  twenty-one  years  of  age,  without  finding 
out  what  agrees  with  him,  and  what  to  eat,  drink,  and 
avoid,  he  has  nobody  to  blame  but  himself  ;  he  does 
not  put  dangerous  explosives  into  his  coat  pockets  ; 
yet  he  will  recklessly  admit  them  into  his  stomach, 
which  is  "  nothing  but  a  hve  inside  pocket."  *  If 
he  beheves  that  a  doctor  can  ever  know  as  much 

*  Southey"s  Doctor. 


PROS   AND   CONS  S75 

about  his  internal  economy  as  he  might  easily  have 
known  himself,  he  has  to  be  disillusioned  by  a  process 
which  will  make  raids  on  his  purse  ;  and  it  will  be 
well  if  his  experience  stops  at  that.  His  vital  organs 
will  resent  the  intrusion  of  noxious  drugs,  and  the 
substitution  of  pernicious  physic  for  its  more  whole- 
some and  natural  pahidum.  Terence  somewhere 
says  that  two  men  may  do  precisely  the  same  thing, 
yet  one  be  right  and  the  other  wrong — ■ 

"  Non  quod  dissimilis  res  sit,  sed  quod  is  sit." 

The  thing  is  the  same,  but  the  men  are  altogether 
different.  His  application  is  ethical ;  but  if  w^e 
apply  it  physically,  it  is  equally  true,  and  resolves 
itself  into  the  well-known  formula :  "  one  man's 
meat  is  another  man's  poison."  Some  live  to  eat : 
others  eat  to  live.  The  optimist  clings  to  life  because 
he  feels  it  good  to  be  alive  ;  the  pessimist  is  equally 
tenacious  of  it,  but  declares  "  it  isn't  good  enough." 

Opinions  differ  astonishingly  as  to  the  pros  and 
cons  of  longevity — whether  life  is  worth  living — 
whether  death  is  to  be  desired  or  not ;  and  which  is 
preferable.  Not  reason,  but  our  temperaments  shape 
the  conclusions  at  which  we  arrive.  I  read  an  account 
of  the  career  of  La  Motte  le  Vayer,  who  in  his  old 
age  declared  that  he  would  not  exchange  the  few 
days  that  remained  to  him  with  the  richest  of  young 
men.  Yet  he  was  discontented,  though  he  ought  to 
have  been  the  reverse.  He  had  the  varied  enjoyments 
of  the  scholar,  and  retained  all  the  vigour  of  his 


276  OMKIANA 

mental  and  corporeal  faculties  to  the  last.  He 
married  at  seventy,  the  daughter  of  an  ambassador, 
and  his  marriage  was  a  success.  Many  works, 
published  by  him  after  this  event,  showed  no  signs 
of  dotage.  He  was  honoiu*ed  by  France  ;  pensioned 
by  the  Crown  ;  got  titles  and  employments  ;  and 
made  much  money  by  his  books.  "  What  could 
be  wanting,"  his  biographer  asks,  "  to  complete 
his  happiness  ?  "  Yet  he  was  not  content.  Cicero 
declared  that,  if  the  Gods  offered  to  put  him  back  in 
his  cradle,  he  would  reject  the  offer,  as  hfc  had  nothing 
to  recommend  it.  Sir  William  Temple  compared  it 
to  a  wayward  child,  to  be  played  with  till  it  falls 
asleep,  and  then  the  care  is  over.  But,  is  it  ?  Or  is 
Sappho  nearer  the  mark  when  she  says,  "  to  die  is  an 
*'  evil,  else  the  Gods  would  have  ordained  that  they 
"  themselves  should  die."  We  can  only  speak  for  our 
individual  selves  ;  and  I,  for  my  part,  would  wish  to 
live  as  long  as  my  faculties  remain  clear,  and  I  do  not 
become  physically  a  burden  to  relatives  of  a  younger 
generation.  I  am  not  in  the  position  of  the  Arabian 
poet,  who,  in  composing  his  own  epitaph,  wi'ote,  "  A 
"  crime  did  my  father  conmiit  against  me— inasmuch 
"  as  he  brought  me  into  the  world  to  die  ;  but  I  have 
"  not  committed  the  same  against  any  one."  He 
Uved  and  died  a  bachelor,  protesting  his  inabihty 
to  understand  how  an  all-perfect  Divinity  could 
tolerate  unceasing  laudatory  pagans  of  praise 
addressed  to  Him  through  all  Eternity. 


OLD   AGE  277 

Of  course  a  prolonged  existence  must  bring  some 
sorrows  and  regrets  to  a  chief  actor  in  a  life  drama 
which  has  had  too  long  a  "  run."  Shadows,  from  the 
rapidly  baring  branches  of  the  once  flourishing  family 
tree,  grow  longer  as  the  sun  goes  down.  He  has  lived 
to  see  promising  young  shoots  blasted  and  bright 
green  leaves  torn  off  ;  and  he  has  asked  again  and 
yet  again  the  Lucretian  question — quare  mors  imma- 
tura  vagatur  ?  to  which  there  is  no  more  satisfactory 
reply  than  the  hackneyed  one  of  another  pagan  poet,* 
with  which  we  are  only  too  familiar  :  quern  di  diligwit, 
etc.  [who,  by-the-bye,  plagiarised  Menander].  He 
has  watched  all  the  luxuriant  fohage  on  this  family 
tree  wither  and  fall  away — till  he  alone  remains^ — a 
solitary  leaf,  awaiting  his  last  flutter  to  the  ground. 

Yet,  it  does  not  always  follow  that  the  ultra-old 
man,  who  has  outstayed  others  at  life's  social  gather- 
ing, has  outstayed  his  welcome,  even  though  of  the 
guests  he  may  be  the  last  to  depart.  Humanity  is, 
in  the  main,  friendly ;  and,  though  his  contem- 
poraries who  loved  him  may  have  departed,  new 
friends — if  he  be  not  querulous  and  sour — will  take  the 
vacant  places.  He  will  not  be  left  to  face  what  Crabbe 
calls  that  "  Dreadful  Independency  "  summarised  in 
one  word  Alone.  Let  him,  while  he  may,  emulate  the 
example  of  Landor,  and  "  warm  both  hands  before 
the  fire  of  life,"  cheerily,  contentedly,  and  gratefully. 
When  the  end  comes,  it  will  be  his  own  fault  if  no 

♦  Plautus. 


278  OMNIANA 

loving  hand  be  found,  to  close  his  eyes,  and  give 
practical  demonstration  to  the  truth  of  those  beautiful 
lines  of  Byron — 

"  Is  it  a  fancy  which  our  reason  scorns  ? 
Ah!  surely  nothing  dies  but  something  mourns." 

Let  US  then  be  thankful  if  the  final  summons  be 
long  delayed.  We  need  not  wish  to  hasten  it.  When 
the  aged  lady,  comparing  her  years  with  those  of 
Fontenelle,  suggested  that  "  death  must  have  for- 
gotten you  and  me,"  he  merely  held  up  a  warning 
finger,  and  said,  "  Hush  !  Death  never  forgets  ;  he 
will  come  by-and-by,  we  need  not  go  about  seeking 
him."  Those  to  whom  he  gives  a  long  respite  and 
health  have  good  reason  to  be  grateful. 

The  Annual  Register  tells  in  1809  of  a  wonderful 
old  lady  then  hving  in  the  Isle  of  Anglesea,  aged  119, 
possessing  all  her  faculties  and  perfect  eyesight. 
"  In  March  she  walked  eight  miles,  and  carried  a  parcel 
of  22  lbs.  weight."  Ingulphus,  Abbot  of  Croyland, 
tells  of  three  of  his  monks,  two  of  whom  died  the  same 
year  aged  168  and  142,  while  the  third  died  in  the 
year  following,  aged  115.  I  give  the  statement  for 
what  it  is  worth  ;  and  I  may  say,  here,  for  myself, 
that  I  do  not  accept  many  of  the  statements  as  to 
longevity,  as  they  seem  to  lack  the  necessary  proofs 
• — notably  in  the  case  of  the  Old  Countess  of  Des- 
mond, who  died  in  1G04.* 

*  "They  tell  a  tale  of  the  old  Countess  of  Desmond  who  lived  till  she 
was  seven  score  years  old,  that  she  did  dentlze  twice  or  thrice,  casting 
her  old  teeth,  and  others  coming  in  their  place." — Lord  Bacon's  Natural 
History. 


THE   INEVITABLE  279 

A  word  as  to  the  desire  for  death.  Of  course  one 
may  lose  one's  mental  balance  under  the  intoxicating 
fervour  of  rehgious  mania  ;  or  may  undergo  such 
bodily  suffering  as  to  wish  for  the  end  ;  but,  that 
a  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body  should  not  desire 
to  prolong  existence  seems  to  me  unnatural.  We 
should  not  despair.  Beliefs  matter  not  at  all — so 
that  they  be  sincere.  It  is  not,  says  Thomas  Fuller, 
the  Church  historian,  how  or  when  we  die  that  counts, 
but  how  we  may  have  lived  ;  or,  as  the  poet  puts  it — 

"  It  matters  not  how  long  we  live  but  how."  * 

Or  again,  as  Samuel  Butler  writes,  "  He  or  she 
who  has  made  the  best  of  the  life  after  death  has  made 
the  best  of  the  life  before  it." 

A  man  may  be  satisfied  as  I  am  to  accept  the 
particular  creed  inherited  by  the  accident  of  birth  ;  or 
he  may  have  originated  a  new  one  ;  or  he  may  have 
accepted  one  of  the  innumerable  varieties  which  have 
been  formulated  by  the  theological  doctrinaire,  to 
bewilder  and  confuse  the  issues.  The  end,  we  know, 
is  inevitable  ;  but,  what  of  it  ?  We  know  also  that 
matter  is  indestructible,  and  the  soul — as  Plato  and 
other  pagans  taught — immortal.  Fine-drawn  distinc- 
tions as  to  the  relative  merits  of  beliefs,  may  be  left 
to  the  Schoolmen.  When  Addison  summoned  to  his 
bedside  his  step-son,  Lord  Warwick,  that  the  young 
man  might  see  with  what  fortitude  a  Christian  could 
die,  he  must  have  known  full  well  that  the  records  of 

*  Festus,  by  Bailey. 


280  OMNIANA 

Paganism  furnished  many  examples  of  equal  fortitude 
— without  this  ostentation.  "  Never  did  men/'  says 
Lecky,  "  pass  through  life  with  more  majestic  dignity 
"  [than  these  pagans],  or  meet  death  with  a  more 
"  unfaltering  calm."  Of  a  certainty,  death,  whether 
it  be  perturbed  or  calm,  ecstatic,  tranquil,  emotional, 
or  hysterical,  postulates  no  solid  logical  basis  on 
which  the  dogmatist  may  buttress  up  any  particular 
creed  ;  and  the  safest  viaticum  for  a  depaiting  spirit, 
is  a  conscience  void  of  offence  or  enmity. 


BUT,  while  I  enunciate  these  precepts,  I  am 
forced  to  make  confession  that  I  cannot 
show  a  "  clean  slate  "  myself  ;  for  I  have 
nursed,  and  still  entertain,  uncharitable  sentiments 
against  a  dead  man  ;  and  the  nearer  I  get  to  the  end 
of  my  tether,  the  more  difficult  I  find  it  to  break  away 
and  repent.  He  against  whom  I  charge  my  conscience 
with  harbouring  these  reprehensible  feelings,  is  the 
late  Sir  William  Harcourt,  who  will  go  down  to  pos- 
terity as  having  passed  an  Act  of  Parhament  "  made 
in  Germany,"  and  known  as  the  Death  Bnties  Act, 
authorising  the  Crown  to  search  the  pockets  of  the 
dead  tax-payer,  after  he  has  fallen  in  the  battle  of 
life,  and  to  appiopi'iate,  as  "  loot,"  that  which  in 
equity  should  be  the  property  of  his  surviving  relatives. 
Of  course,  it  is  a  platitude  to  say  that  imposts  are 


SIR   WILLIAM   HAKCOURT  281 

necessary  for  maintenance  of  the  "  body  politic/'  we 
all  have  to  submit  to  them  during  our  lives  ;  but  there 
is  a  difference  between  the  principle  of  taxation  and 
an  unprincipled  tax.  There  is  nothing  to  prevent  an 
unscrupulous  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer  from 
quadrupling  this  iniquitous  one.  The  dead  are 
silent,  and  of  no  party.  The  statesman  finds  it  safer 
to  despoil  these  than  to  tread  too  heavily  on  the  toes 
of  the  living.  I  remember  that  once,  in  a  grandilo- 
quent speech,  Sir  William  took  occasion  to  announce 
that  he  was  descended  from  the  Plantagenets- — as 
though  this  fact  should  be  accounted  to  him  for 
righteousness- — the  result  being  that,  when  he  died, 
nearly  all  the  obituary  notices  rang  the  changes  on 
it,  which,  doubtless,  impressed  the  "  nob  hunting  " 
section  of  the  public.  It,  certainly,  did  not  impress 
me,  because,  in  my  county  of  Kerry,  Plantagenet 
blood  is  so  common  that  we  don't  think  it  worth 
while  to  be  "  stuck  up "  about  it.  I  give,  in 
Appendix  (H)  a  few  descents  to  illustrate  the  assertion 
— which  may  be  ignored  by  those  who  are  not 
interested,  as  I  am,  in  genealogy  pure  and  simple. 

That  one  may  presume  upon  this  interest  has  been 
lu'ought  home  to  me,  from  time  to  time.  I  recall  an 
instance  :  some  years  ago,  I  was  written  to,  by  a  fair 
cousin,  anent  her  pedigree.  I  sent  her  many  of  our 
mutual  descents,  and  among  them — see  Appendix  (I) 
— a  descent  from  Hugh  de  Morville,  one  of  the  four 
knights  who    assassinated  Thomas  a  Becket.     The 


282  OMNIANA 

effect  was  disastrous,  as  she  is  a  pronounced  and 
devout  High  Cluirch  woman,  who  venerates  the 
prelate  as  a  saint  and  martyr ;  and  to  learn  that 
the  blood  of  one  of  his  murderers  ran  in  her  veins 
was  a  shock  which  put  an  abrupt  end  to  her  genea- 
logical researches  ;  but  not  to  our  friendship,  I  am 
glad  to  say. 


AND  here  I  think  it  is  about  time  that  I  also 
put  an  end  to  my  rambhng  records.  But 
before  doing  so  I  must  make  a  "  surprise  " 
statement,  which  will  be  received  with  incredulity 
by  English  readers. 

I  have  carried  out  professional  work  in  every 
county  in  Ireland,  and  have  travelled  north,  south, 
east,  and  west — knowing  it  as  intimately  as  any 
commercial  traveller  ;  and  I  assert,  without  fear  of 
contradiction,  that  I  have  never  seen  or  heard  of  an 
Irish  peasant  who  carried  his  pipe  in  his  hat-band. 
He  is,  simply,  a  myth.  Where,  when,  or  how  he  was 
evolved,  I  know  not ;  but  of  this  I  am  certain,  that 
he  never  existed  in  the  flesh.  Will  any  Englishman 
believe  this  ? 

"  What !  "  I  hear  him  exclaim,  "  give  up  the 
conventional  Paddy  of  fiction,  of  the  stage,  of  the 
comic  papers,  and  of  the  fancy-dress  ball — never  !  " 

Well,  I  am  not  so  fatuous  as  to  suppose  that  I 


MYTHS  283 

shall  succeed  in  dispelling  the  myth  :  it  has  been  too 
long  an  article  of  faith  across  the  Channel ;  but, 
incredible  as  the  statement  may  appear,  I  unhesi- 
tatingly declare  it  to  he  a  myth — a  pure  fiction. 

But  myths  are  outside  the  domain  of  reason  and 
argument.  Wliile,  in  everyday  hfe,  disillusionment 
comes  to  all  of  us  sooner  or  later,  myths  hve  us  down 
and  are  perennial.  There  are  those  of  us  who,  in 
youth,  beheve  that  the  gilding  enhances  the  flavour 
of  our  gingerbread ;  but  who,  in  maturer  years, 
judge  the  gingerbread  altogether  on  its  merits  ?  We 
can't  get  rid  of  a  myth  by  disproving  or  disparaging 
it.  Too  much  matter-of-fact  is  upsetting,  sometimes, 
to  one's  ideals  ;  and  wholly  to  discard  fiction,  and  go 
to  the  bed-rock  of  fact,  has  its  drawbacks,  from  a 
sentimental  point  of  view.  To  penetrate  behind  the 
scenes  discloses  what  it  is  often  inexpedient  to  learn  ; 
and  it  is  just  as  well  to  accept  some  things,  like  Paddy 
and  his  pipe,  as  we  find  them,  without  inquiry  into 
their  genesis. 

X-rays  reveal  the  unexpected,  and  the  microscope 
shows  us  entities  of  whose  existence  we  were  previously 
unaware.  Where  "  ignorance  is  bliss "  too  much 
enlightenment  may  be  disconcerting;  and  it  is  just 
as  well  that  neither  the  host  nor  the  guest  knows 
all  that  goes  on  in  the  kitchen. 

Apropos,  I  remember  that,  at  a  popular  restaurant, 
of!  Holborn,  which  I  frequented,  years  ago,  I  came 
unexpectedly  upon  the  German  waiter,  behind  his 


284  OMNIANA 

screon,  mixing  liquid  Tnustard  in  tlio  palm  of  his  left 
hand  by  the  aid  of  a  dessert  spoon,  with  which  he 
ti'ansf erred  it  to  the  pots,  when  duly  prepared.  His 
object  was,  no  doubt,  praiseworthy- — namely,  to 
ensure  absence  from  lumps  ;  but,  all  the  same,  I'd 
rather  have  remained  in  ignorance  of  a  process  which 
resulted  in  the  transferring  my  patronage  to  the  bar 
counter,  where  an  attractive  young  lady  presided 
over  less  substantial  but  more  costly  viands,  and 
helped  me  to  sandwiches,  out  of  a  glass  case  with  an 
instrument  which  was  a  combination  of  fish-slice  and 
salad  fork.  It  did  not  occur  to  me  that,  probably,  in 
making  those  very  sandwiches  she  spanked  them 
together  with  her  palms  ;  but,  even  if  it  had  occurred 
to  me — after  all,  they  were  her  palms,  pretty,  white, 
and  clean  ones,  and  not  the  German  waiter's. 

But  I  am  wandering    again  :    shirking  the  last 
word. 


ONE  quits  a  congenial  task  of  any  kind,  when 
it  is  finished,  with  a  feeling  of  regret.  In 
the  compiling  and  completion  of  a  book, 
this  task  is  altogether  personal.  Nobody  takes  any 
interest  in  the  process  but  the  man  himself.  Sub- 
sequently he  may  find  that  he  has  awakened  no 
feeling  one  way  or  other — in  which  event  his  work 


CRITICISM  285 

is  a  failure.  Doubly  is  it  a  failure  if  the  tax  on 
his  reader's  patience  or  forbearance  is  too  great,  and 
he  evokes  resentment  as  the  result  of  his  efforts. 

I  know  this  book  is  a  very  desultory,  unmethodical 
production :  because  I  am,  unable  to  resist  the  habit 
of  going  off  the  track  in  order  to  follow  side  issues ; 
abandoning  the  highway  to  ramble  through  lanes  and 
by-roads.  The  character  which  Isaac  DisraeU  gives 
a  greater  man  than  I  am,  seems  to  fit :  "  He  had  a 
fragmentary  mind,  and  he  was  a  rambler  in  discursive 
criticism  "  ;  but  defects  may  be  condoned  in  Thomas 
Warton  for  which  a  smaller  man  must  be  prepared 
to  suffer  censure. 

I  can  do  no  more  than  plead  guilty,  own  up,  and 
apologise  to  the  critic  and  the  so-called  "  gentle  " 
reader.  Apropos — I  may  say  that,  some  years  ago, 
there  appeared  a  little  paper  called  The  Whirlwind, 
which  had  a  short  life  and  a  merry  one.  The  editors 
went  in  for  the  scalping  knife  and  the  tomahawk. 
In  one  curt  sentence  they  made  short  work  of  John 
Orlebar ;  and,  when  the  pubhsher  was  advertising 
a  new  edition,  I  suggested  that  this  criticism  should 
appear  with  the  list  of  favourable  ones  ;  for  it  seemed 
to  me  only  logical  that  unfavoui-able  reviews  should 
be  given  a  hearing ;  but  the  suggestion  was  one 
^vhich  would  not  be  for  a  moment  entertained.  A  hkc 
result  awaited  my  efforts  in  a  similar  direction,  when 
the  Chronicles  of  Westerly  was  reprinted  from  Black- 
wood's Magazine,  and  I  pleaded  for  the  insertion  among 


286  OMNIANA 

the  press  notices  of  the  adverse  criticism  of  a  Loudon 
daily  paper.  I  wasn't  hstened  to  ;  and  I  merely  state 
the  facts  to  show  that  I  hold  advanced  views  on  this 
subject  of  reviews  and  reviewers  which,  some  day, 
may  find    acceptance.      I    should   immensely  enjoy 

cutting  myself  up  in  the  columns  of  say  the  C 

T ;    but   I   am  not    likely  to   get  the  chance  ; 

though,  undoubtedly,  I  could  perform  the  task 
far  more  effectively  and  thoroughly  than  any- 
body else. 

The  author  of  Waverley  states,  in  the  preface  to 
his  last  novel,  that  while  in  theory,  he  lays  his  work 
before  the  pubHc  "  with  the  same  unconcern  with 
"  which  the  ostrich  lays  her  egg  in  the  sand — giving 
"  herself  no  further  trouble ;  yet  I  become  in  practice," 
he  says,  "  a  poor  hen  who  has  no  sooner  made  her 
"  deposit,  but  she  runs  cackling  about,  to  call  the 
"  attention  of  every  one  to  the  wonderful  work  she  has 
"  performed."  The  great  Sir  Walter  could  say  this 
without  any  misgiving  as  to  the  result ;  but  it  may  be 
altogether  different  with  an  inferior  octogenarian 
bird,  whose  last  egg  involves  the  possibihty  of  its 
being  an  addled  one.  If  this  should  be  my  case  I 
shall  make  the  discovery  with  equanimity  ;  for  "  as 
"  we  advance  in  life  we  find  we  cannot  afford  excite- 
"  ment,  and  we  learn  to  be  parsimonious  in  our 
emotions."  *  One  can  hardly  hope  to  escape  censure 
or  to  please  everybody.     The  secret  of  that  ancient 

*  Companions  of  my  Solitude,  by  Sir  Arthur  Helps. 


THE   EDUCATION   QUESTION  287 

worthy  whose  name  I  forget  [was  it  Theramenes  ?], 
who  made  a  boot  that  fitted  every  foot,  has  never 
been  divulged ;  and  the  modern  Hterary  Crispin 
cannot  hope  to  avoid  misfits  among  his  patrons  :  he 
must  look  to  be  told  by  some  of  them  where  the  shoe 
pinches,  and  to  put  up  with  their  fault-finding. 


JUST  as  the  book  is  going  to  Press  it  strikes  me 
that  the  following  note,  which  has  reference 
to  the  Vatican  Decree  mentioned  at  page  55 
is  of  interest  enough  to  warrant  insertion. 


'&^ 


A  PAMPHLET  entitled,  The  Bible  not  a  dangerous  hook,  -proved 
in  a  letter  to  Daniel  O'Connell,  Esq.,  appeared  in  Dublin,  in 
1821.  The  following  facts  anent  its  publication  are  interesting. 
Some  enlightened  men  had  formed  themselves  into  a  Society 
in  Kildare  Place,  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  a  system  of 
education  for  the  poor  of  Ireland.  They  wisely  considered 
that  liberal  not  sectarian  principles  could  alone  tend  to 
success,  and  they  came  to  the  resolution  that  "  the  leading 
principle  by  which  this  Society  shall  be  guided  is  to  afford 
the  same  facilities  for  education  to  all  classes  of  professing 
Christians,  without  attempting  to  interfere  with  the  peculiar 
religious  opinions  of  any "  (3rd  Article).  Amongst  others 
who  became  zealous  in  its  support  were  the  Duke  of  Leinster, 
Lord  Cloncurry,  Daniel  O'Connell,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  Another  reso- 
lution to  the  following  effect  was  subsequently  passed — "  That 
it  should  be  a  condition  of  affording  assistance  to  any  school 
that  the  Bible  without  notes  or  comments  should  be  one  of 
the  books  read."  Daniel  O'Connell  did  not  approve  of  this, 
and  at  a  meeting  on  February  24,  1820,  he  opposed  the  use 
of  the  Bible.     A  large  majority  maintained  the  principles 


288  OMNIANA 

on  which  the  Society  set  out.  The  Duke  of  Lcinstcr  ami 
Lord  Cloncurry  (supported  O'Connell,  who,  being  defeated 
seceded,  and  at  a  meeting  in  the  Rotunda  on  February  2, 
182J,  formed  a  second  society,  the  principle  of  which  was  that 
the  Bible  should  not  be  used  as  a  school  book.  The  causes 
and  consequences  of  this  separation  and  the  arguments  by 
which  it  was  defended  form  the  subject  of  the  pamphlet. 
The  position  taken  up  by  O'Connell  was  divided  into  two 
parts — first,  that  the  Bible  is  not  a  proper  book  to  instruct 
children  in  ("  without  notes  and  comments  it  was  not  fit  to 
be  read  ")  ;  secondly,  that  the  use  of  it  "  is  intended  and 
calculated  to  make  proselytes."'  The  author  in  reply  says  : 
''  1  am  aware  that  while  you  assert  in  fact  that  the  Bible 
is  a  bad  book  you  will  deny  it  in  words.  But  such  is,  I  insist 
upon  it,  the  inference  deducible  from  your  arguments.  For 
if  a  book  be  not  fit  to  be  read  without  notes  or  comments 
it  is  consequently  rendered  innoxious  by  them  alone  ;  and 
it  must  therefore,  without  them  in  its  own  nature,  and  in- 
trinsically be  a  bad  and  pernicious  book." 

This  vital  difference  between  the  Roman  Catholic  Church 
and  all  other  Christian  Churches  exists  still  ;  and  is  as  hotly 
debated  now  as  it  was  in  1821,  and  with  as  little  prospect  of 
adjustment.  In  this  instance  the  action  taken  by  O'Connell 
resulted  in  a  war,  says  Lord  Cloncurry  in  his  Recollections, 
"  which  ended  in  the  formation  of  the  National  Board  of 
Education  and  the  appropriation  to  it  of  the  parliamentary 
grant  that  had  been  for  some  years  given  to  the  Kildarc 
Place  Society."  Lord  Cloncurry  tells  how  in  some  cases  "  the 
priests  complied  with  the  rule  of  the  Society  in  order  to 
procure  the  means  of  education  for  the  people,  and  one 
reverend  gentleman  who  is  now  a  bishop,  and  to  whose  school 
I  subscribed,  did  actually  get  the  Bible  read  dail}^  in  the 
schoolroom  by  permission  of  his  diocesan  (the  celebrated 
Doctor  Doyle),  taking  the  precaution  of  rendering  his  sub- 
mission to  the  rule  of  the  Society,  innocuous  to  his  flock  hy 
perjorming  the  obnoxious  operation  in  the  absence  of  the  scholars." 
The  italics  are  mine.  He  goes  on  to  say  :  ''1  am  in  no  degree 
inclined  to  justify  '  pious  frauds,'  but  in  this  case  there  was 
certainly   a   good   motive  and   end.     The  objection  of   the 


NOTE  289 

priesthood  to  the  reading  of  the  Bible  being  insuperable  the 
reverend  gentlemen  continued  their  plan  with  a  view  to 
obviating  the  effect  of  that  objection.  As  soon  as  the  nature 
of  the  difl&culty  became  fully  known  to  me,  I  did  all  that  in 
me  lay  to  induce  the  Society  to  remove  it.  The  committee, 
however,  was  in  the  hands  of  a  few  professional  fanatics,  and 
my  warnings  were  disregarded  ;  and  after  driving  all  liberal 
Protestants  from  their  counsels  they  finally  succeeded  in 
causing  the  withdrawal  from  themselves  of  the  parliamentary 
grant,  and  the  establishment  of  the  National  Board  of 
Education." — Lord  Cloncurry's  Recollections. 


U 


r  onl^  eon  3amc6  ifranl^lin 


(24) 

AUTHUll 

Herbkkt. 
(See  Her- 
bert of 
Cahirnane 
in  Burke's 
"  Landed 
Gentry.") 


(25) 
Mtss    jI3len-= 

NERHASSETT, 

dau.  of  ....  t 
Blennerhas- 
sett  of  Bleu- 
nerhassett  in 
Cumberland. 


(26) 
;Coloael  KiKliV 
or  KiRKBY    of 
Kirkby    Lous- 
dale.  (See  John 
(Black  Jack) 
Blennerhas- 
sett's  pedigree 
in  Hickson's 
"  Kerry  Re- 
cords.") 


(27 

CA.STIL1J 

dau.  of 
phen  Fit 
gerald  o 
M  oret  ai 
grandda 
of  Thon; 
Fitzgera 
(Yellow 
Tom). 


RBEKT 

d,  CO. 
urke's 
itry," 
nave.) 


Mary  Kirkby=Christopher  Julian 
of  Listowel,  Agent  to 
Lord  Kerry. 


Elizabeth,  c 
Cliristopher 
of  IJstowel. 


,=F.  C.  Bland,  J.P.,  D.L.,  of  Derriquin 
I  Castle,  CO.  Kerry  ;  died  16  Sep.  1838. 


APPENDIX    A 

tTbe  ^cije  (Siuarticrs  of  tlbomas  Ibarnctt  fuller  anb  aleo  of  bis  wife  ffann?  Diana  38lan6;  bcine  tbc  {lrcnte»©euj:  ffluarticrs  of  tbeir  oul\>  son  James  jfranhiin  jfullcr. 


By  tlio  uiilverHol  rauneul  of  PonttueuUI  Europe,  the  ■"  Seiec  Quart  lun 
ley  have  been  the"  opni, «eMTfi«"o( every  prosenco-chamber or Boyally 
le  Britiflli  QOblllty  vleldH  to  none  other,  and  yet  cx)inpaniUveIy  npcakliig 
I  to  8ixt«eu  famlliea.    TlUa  is,  and  was  at  all  lline«,  considered  n  very  rigor 


y  high  place  at  Forelsn 
's  VicUtUvda  of  Famil 


(8)  (4)  (5)  (6)  (7)  (8)  (S)  (10)  (11)  (12)  (13)  (14)  (15)  (16)  (17)  (19)  (19)  (20)  (21)  (22) 


v=AUboarkt.    John  Bi.>iK-=U: 


\^l,J'"""  ,''.'  '!"'< 


>'.TH01UB= 

WiN  daUd 


j  Ul^ 


"  Peerage, ' 


liir 


(24)  (85)  (26)  (87)  (88) 


KJrIcbv    Lous- 


I  HlBIIKKT.  XKRHAS8II 

■oaaie,  aiga  i  ildibiii  oi  loneir  oi   (See   Hff  dau.  of  .  .         __  

lerlH  of        ,  Kerry  (wni        (ioorge    \birt  of  Bleanerhiu-    '  dole. (See  John     seraldof 

r  his  wife'      Knight  ot  otCastie- 1  In  Burkc'«  nerhouettln  1  Bleunerlia*-  ffranddnu. 

—  n — 11.      KcrrVj  by  Uland.     '  "^  Landed  Cumborlnnd.  setfn  IWllw^  


lnHlcV»o,r;         Kl.«c«id 
■  Kerry  Ho-  (Yeltow 


Hevelloy         Brewil«r, 


ir  VrancU     I BUHD  (i 


»i-6,  by 
bard^wffe 


I  DepDljr 

su&eriai 


:Katoaiiiu  Buhp,  LL.D..  Jadoo  ot 
PreroBotlvo    Conrt,    Dublin,   Vloar- 


).I7D0:  proved lUAprlir 


(  Beech  mouati^ELliABBTlt  B 


i  FBANKLIH  PULLKB,  I 


APPENDIX   B 

SOME  TRESS  NOTICES  OF 
CULMSHIKE   FOLK 

"  The  careful  and  clever  descriptions,  brilliant  dialogue,  ^\  holesome 
sentiment,  literary  culture,  and  inlaid  wisdom,  make  the  novel  a  re- 
markable one." — Bridih  Qnarlcrly  Review. 

"  Certainly  a  remarkable  book.  No  one  but  a  stupid  person  could 
fail  to  be  charmed  with  it.  .  .  .  Lady  Culmshirc  is  a  conception  that 
does  the  author  credit,  ^y  this  his  hrst  book  he  has  made  his  mark." — 
Grapliic. 

"  No  one  without  reading  tlic  book  can  comprehend  how  Lady 
Culmshirc  fascinates  the  reader." — Court  Circular, 

"  Lady  Culmshirc,  m  truth,  must  take  her  place  hi  the  hction  of  this 
age.  No  one  within  our  knowledge  has  produced  a  character  so  carefully 
worked  out.  Altogether  '  Culmshirc  Folk  '  is  a  novel  which  stands  out 
in  agreeable  and  high  relief  from  the  ordinary  rmi  of  books  of  this  kind." 
— Scolinnan. 

"  The  author  of  '  Culmshirc  Folk '  most  decidedly  made  his  mark 
on  the  literature  of  the  day  by  tlie  book.  He  at  one  step  took  his  rank 
among  the  leading  novelists." — WcdmiiUiUr  Review. 

"Contains  a  good  deal  of  thoughtful  writing,  and  at  least  one  re- 
markable study  of  character — Lady  Culmshire,  kindly,  worldly,  tender, 
with  a  soft  heart  beneath  the  jx)lished  breastplate  she  bears  agamst 
Bociety — is  a  pleasant  one." — Athcnccuyn. 

"  The  book  is  an  able  ironical  gibbeting  of  some  of  the  clerical  and 
social  customs  of  the  day,  which  should  shoot  folly  as  it  Hies,  while 
the  humorous  touches  are  worthy  of  Hibernian  soil." — Liverpool 
Albion. 

''The  remarkable  thing  ab(jut  the  book  is,  that  one  does  not  care 
about  its  story  at  all  till  the  third  volume  is  reached;    and  jet  it  is 

291 


292  OMNIANA 

charnting  throughout.     A  very  odd  book  ;   one  which  never  fails  to  be 
amusing."— .S'/;cc/a/or. 

■  Agreeable  incidents,  pleasing  conversations,  and  able  sketches  of 
character.  Sprightly  and  animated.  Cleverly  written,  and  in  a  brisk 
and  dashing  style.  The  reflections  arc  verj' judicious,  brief,  and  to  the 
point."— J/or«iH{jr  Pod. 

"Numerous  health}'  and  hearty  pictures,  if  '  Culmshirc  Folk'  is 
a  hrst  work  it  is  certainly  very  promising."— J/a/tc/iciYcr  Examiner. 

"  \Vhcn  the  end  of  the  third  volume  is  reached  the  reader  w  ill  have 
fallen  quite  in  love  ^vith  her  ladyship." — Illustrated  Lmubn  Ncivs. 

■■  A  clever  and  cnjoj-able  book — one  of  the  few  that  can  be  read  a 
second  time  with  the  certainty  of  deriving  more  pleasure  from  it  than  on 
the  first  perusal." — Glasgow  Herald. 

"  Gives  evidence  of  real  ability.  The  story  is  mainly  intended  to 
bring  out  the  character  of  Lady  Culmshire,  who  is  a  fine  studj',  and 
worthy  of  all  the  pains  the  author  has  bestowed  upon  her." — Globe. 

''As  a  reflection  of  the  ]X,^oplc  and  maimers  of  our  time,  '  Culmshire 
Folk  '  deserves  the  highest  commendation." — Queen. 

"  Generally  good,  and  often  excellent.  Readers  will  look  forward 
to  a  second  work  from  the  same  bright  and  clever  pen," — Daily  News. 

"  jMost  interesting.  The  author  may  be  congratulated  on  a  book  sure 
to  be  read  by  many,  and  liked  by  all." — Sunday  Times. 

'■  If  each  chapter  increases  the  eagerness  to  read,  merit  may  be 
assumed." — Edinbunjli  Couranl. 

"  We  hope  this  is  not  the  last  novel  we  shall  sec  written  by 
'  Ignotus,'  who,  by  the  way,  has  no  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  his  name." — 
Whitehall  Review. 

"  Lady  Culmshire  is  one  of  those  rare  creations  which  a  reader 
recognises  at  once  as  a  perfectly  possible  indi\iduality — one  that  may 
be  remembered  as  though  it  has  an  actual  material  existence." — Daily 
Telegraph. 


APPENDIX  C 

SOME   PRESS   NOTICES    OF 
JOHN   OELEBAR 

"  This  is  a  clever  book,  overflowing  with  animal  spirits,  and  good 
nature.  It  abounds  in  felicitous  railler\'  and  allusion,  and  is  now  and 
then  truly  witty." — Contemporary  Review. 

"We  recommend  'John  Orlebar  '  to  all  our  readers." — Wesiminster 
RevieuK 

"This  book  is  one  of  the  jtleasant  surprises  wherewith  reviewers 
are  at  intervals  blessed.  .  .  .  The  dialogue  is  marvellous  for  aptness 
and  wit.  .  .  .  When  we  add  that  there  is  not  a  dull  page  in  the  book, 
we  have  said  enough  to  show  that  a  writer  of  remarkable  calibre  lias  showTi 
h  i  mself . " — Va  n  ity  Fair. 

'•  It  is,  like  its  predecessor,  something  out  of  the  common.  There 
is  a  raciness  about  it  which  will  make  it  acceptable  to  most  readers,  and 
a  j)leasant  change  from  the  conventional  novel. "^ — Morning  PoM. 

"'  A  study,  vigorous  and  acute,  of  certain  types  of  thought  and 
culture,  brought  together  with  the  deftest  skill;  and  a  combination  of 
strength  and  rapidity  of  touch  that  are  most  enjoj'able.  '  John  Orlebar  ' 
is  especially  different  from  other  novels — there  is  not  half  enough  of 
it." — Scotsman. 

"The  author  has  not  lost  any  of  the  incisiveness  which  marked  the 
sketches  of  character  in  the  former  story.  The  love  relations  between 
.iohn  and  his  cousin  are  delicately  and  tenderly  handled,  the  important 
occasion  on  which  they  come  together  being  a  specially  touching  and 
natural  scene." — Athenceum. 

"The  author  continues  to  give  abundant  evidence  of  thought  and 
culture,  and  of  keen  a})preciation  of  character — ^particularly  ol  clerical 
character.  The  attraction  of  the  book  lies  in  its  dialogue — thouglitful 
or  humorous  as  the  case  may  be." — Graphic. 

29.'{ 


294  OMNIANA 

"There  are  lively  dialogtie,  clever  telling  bits,  keen  piquant  por- 
traiture, with  oftentimes  far-reaching  insight,  and  withal  an  excellent 
tone  throughout,  that  enables  us  to  recommend  '  John  Orlebar  '  without 
a  drawback  or  a  qualification." — Church  Revieir. 

"  The  charm  of  a  most  readable  book.  We  must  commend  one  so 
carefully  and  pleasantly  written." — Public  Opinion. 

"  It  is  long  since  we  have  enjoyed  a  novel  as  much  as  this  one.  The 
story  is  absolutely  full  of  humour,  and  also  deals  some  terrible  blows  at 
ecclesiastical  fancies  and  foibles."- — Liverpool  Albion. 

"  '  John  Orlebar  '  is  even  cleverer  than  '  Culmshire  Folk  ' — more 
entertaining,  more  brilliant,  more  humorous,  more  incisive,  and  sagacious. 
Those  who  read  first  for  amusement  will  be  apt  to  recur  to  it  again  for 
the  enjoyment  in  more  thoughtful  hours  of  its  mingled  wit  and  wisdom." 

— Spectator. 

"  It  is  not  often  that  one  has  the  good  fortime  to  come  upon  so  well- 
written  a  novel.  Bright,  racy,  humorous.  The  Bishop  is  admirably 
sketched,  and  so  is  the  group  of  clergj'men  of  all  shades  of  orthodoxy  and 
honesty  of  which  he  is  the  central  figure,  and  every  word  he  speaks  is 
c  harac  terist  ic. ' ' — A  cadeyny. 

"  Realistic  character-painting  is  his  forte.  All  his  former  readers 
will  be  glad  to  visit  Culmshire  again.  An  admirable  port  rait -gallery  ; 
teems  with  good  sayings  both  witty  and  wise." — Globe. 

"  A  book  that  at  once  strikes  the  intelligent  reader  as  being  the 
work  of  one  with  a  keen  insight  into  the  wondrous  twists  and  turns  of 
our  many-sided  poor  human  nature.  Its  fault  is  its  brevitj-." — Sydney 
Town  and  Country  Journal. 

"  Its  three  hundred  pages  are  full  of  good  things." — Literary  World. 

'"The  author  has  won  a  recognised  position  in  modern  English 
literature.     Rare  gifts  of  humour  and  a  graceful  style." — Echo. 

"  A  capital  collection  of  characters,  true  to  human  nature,  whose 
sayings — sententious,  grave,  or  witty — are  all  good." — World. 

"  Original,  forceful,  and  racy  work." — Scottish  Leader. 

"A  brilliantly  written  and  skilfully  constructed  novel." — Enropean 
Mail. 

"  Once  begim  it  is  difUcult  to  lay  down." — Manchester  Examiner. 

"  As  a  tonic  for  low  spirits  '  John  Orlebar '  is  one  of  the  best." — 
Piiblishefs  Circular. 


APPENDIX  D 

SOME  PRESS   NOTICES   OF 
BILLY;   OR,   THE   YOUNG   IDEA 

"  '  Billy  '  is  one  of  the  most  chcarming  books  for  children  ever  written. 
The  hero  of  it,  a  little  boy,  is  a  philosoiDher  in  embryo.  His  questions 
about  life,  the  lower  animals,  men  and  women  and  God,  are  astounding. 
The  book,  in  its  way,  has  flashes  of  genius.  It  is  far  more  natural,  more 
human,  and  more  dramatic  than  Dickens'  Carol.  We  congratulate  the 
author  of  '  Chronicles  of  Westerly  '  on  having  given  the  world  a  master- 
piece in  child  literature.  The  illustrations  are  excellent." — Westminster 
Review. 

"  Readers  who  are  interested  in  those  very  original  books  '  Culmshire 
Folk '  and  '  John  Orlebar  '  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  the  author  has  given 
another  to  the  ]iublic — striking,  bright,  clever,  and  redolent  of  the  soil." — 
Graphic. 

"  A  diverting  story,  fascinatingly  idyllic.  The  author  manages,  as 
he  has  done  in  previous  publications,  to  maintain  imbroken  interest  from 
first  to  last,  and  to  awaken  but  one  regret — ^that  the  end  of  his  book 
comes  too  soon." — WhiteMll  Review. 

"  It  reveals  a  rare  insight  on  the  part  of  the  writer.  Can  be  imder- 
stood  and  relished  by  the  smallest  juvenile,  and  will  serve  to  remind 
older  readers  of  the  fact  that  they  were  once  children." — Scotsman. 

"  A  witty  little  book.  Character-jDainting  is  the  author's  forte. 
Each  individual  is  a  well-thought-out  study,  and  the  humour  has  a 
meaning  to  be  found  beneatli  the  surface." — Simday  Times. 

"  There  is  much  pleasant  humour  in  the  stoiy.  The  farmer's  help- 
lessness in  the  hands  of  the  sharp  child  who  asks  him  puzzling  questions 
is  well  described." — Manchester  Examiner. 

"  This  little  book  is  clever  and  amusing." — Queen. 

295 


296  OMNIANA 

"  A  sprightly  story.  Bright  sketohes  of  childhood  cloverly  and 
genially  dra\^ii.     Racy  and  characteristic." — Smuhn/  Rtvinr. 

"  A  very  amusing  book." — Spectator. 

"  The  writer  has  here  given  us  a  very  ])leasant  sketch  of  a  little  lad, 
town  born,  who  makes  liis  first  acquaintance  with  comitry  life.  Little 
Billy  Bunce  is  a  veiy  lovable  child,  and  Farmer  Stubbs  and  his  wife  , 
the  ciiildless  old  couyjle,  with  whom  he  sjjends  his  Christmas-time,  are 
very  worthy  i)eo|)]e.  The  various  incidents  are  told  with  humour  and 
si)irit,  and  the  book  is  quite  worthy  the  author's  reputation." — Bookseller. 

"  To  make  an  inquisitive  little  boy  the  hero  of  a  story  that  shall 
amuse  adults  is  to  achieve  rare  success.  The  difficulty  is  how  to  be  inno- 
cent and  child-like  and  ridiculous  all  at  the  same  time,  without  being 
uimatural  or  absurd.  The  author  of  '  C'ulmshire  Folk  '  comes  veiy  near 
this  high  standard  in  '  Billy,  a  sketch  for  the  New  f'.oy,  by  an  Old  Boy.' 
The  stoi'y  centres  round  a  talkative  little  fellow  who  is  lent  to  a  childless 
farmer  and  his  wife  for  the  Christmas  holidays.  The  farmer  and  his 
wife  are  also  true  to  life." — Yorkshire  Post. 

"Many  little  folks  will  find  a  delightful  companion  in  'Billy,  a 
Sketch  for  the  New  Boy  by  an  Old  Boy.'  It  is  a  smartly  written 
humorous  tale  of  a  town  boy's  experiences  and  adventures  at  a  farmhouse 
during  Christmas-time." — Liverpool  Co7irier. 


APPENDIX  E 

SOME   PRESS  NOTICES  OP 
CHE0NICLE8   OP   WESTERLY 

"They  are  such  good  company  that  at  the  end  ol"  the  third  vohiine 
we  would  willingly  have  followed  them  through  three  more."— IlVs/- 
minsler  Revieio. 

"  Brilliant  and  epigrammatic  to  the  very  end  ;  good  things  literally 
stud  the  pages." — Vanity  Fair. 

"  The  author's  happy  knack  of  describing  persons  and  characters 
has  not  deserted  him  .  .  .  some  delightful  portraits." — World. 

"  As  charming  as  a  summer  day's  ramble  along  an  imknown  lane, 
rich  in  unexpected  turns  and  windings." — Graphic. 

"  A  fund  of  observation  and  inexhaustible  humour." — Daib/ 
Telegraph. 

"  A  book  that  has  something  readable  and  suggestive  on  every  page." 
— Standard. 

"  Keen  observation  and  kindly  humour." — Morning  Post. 

"  That  very  agreeable  writer  has  added  one  more  to  the  pleasant 
recits,  which  have  so  much  of  the  Blackwood  manner." — Neiv  Reinew. 

'■  That  the  author  is  an  exceedingly  amusing  writer  is  not  to  be  denied 
by  any  or\e.''—Amdemij. 

"  His  soldiers  and  clerics  are  admirably  drawn." — Covrt  Circvlar. 

"Throughout  pleasant  literature.  .  .  .  lirilliant  character  sketch- 
ing."— Ohaerver. 

"A  delightful  story  .  .  .  wit,  humour,  and  English  pure  and  un- 
defiled."— ^c//o. 

"  Xo  less  a  word  than  charming  is  suitable.'" — TnhUt. 

207 


298  OMNIANA 

"  A  shrewd  judgo  of  Imman  nature.  .  .  .  Throp  readable  volumes." — ■ 
Alhenceum. 

"  One  of  the  most  charming  books  of  the  season.     It  is  impossible 
to  lay  it  down  half  read." — National  Observer. 

"One  of  the  most  brilliant  novels  of  the  present  generation." — 
Figaro. 

"  A  very  excellent  novel,  and  one  that  should  be  read." — Sunday 
Times. 

"  We  have  never  read  a  story  with  greater  pleasure.     Unquestionably 
a  delightful  book." — Bnih  Chronicle. 

"  Appetising  rather  than  acrid.     Its  undoubted  literary  merit  should 
make  it  a  success." — Court  Journal. 

"  Few  books  leave  a  more  wholesome  taste  in  the  mouth.  ...  A 
gallery  of  lively  and  pleasant  portraiture." — Literarij  Opinion. 

"  There  is  a  breezy  tone  about  it  which  to  the  sated  reader  of  modem 
fiction  will  do  good  like  a  medicine." — Liverpool  Post. 

"  A  charming  provincial  storj-.    Talk  at  its  best." — Daily  Neivs, 

"  In  short  these  Chronicles  will  please  manj'  readers." — Army  aiid 
Navy  Qazette. 


APPENDIX  F 

SOME  PRESS  NOTICES   OF 
DOCTOR  QUODLIBET 

"  I  recommend  to  you  '  Doctor  Quodlibet '." — Truth 

"  A  most  lovable  prelate."— 3fornj«;7  Post. 

"  A  brilliant  novelette." — Daily  Telegraph. 

"  Heartily  enjoyable." — Scotsman. 

"  A  charming  story." — World. 

"  A  gracefully  written  book." — To-Day. 

"  '  Doctor  Quodlibet '  is  a  dear  old  fellow." — Leeds  Mercury. 

"  A  delightful  study  in  ethics." — Whitehall  Review. 

"  Very  human  and  natural." — Church  Review. 

"  The  bishop  is  a  nice  practitioner  in  ethics." — Saturday  Review. 

"  The  bishop  will  win  the  affection  of  every  reader." — Bookseller. 

"  A  clever  character  sketch." — Public  Opinion. 

"  A  delightful  old  bishop.     Much  cause  of  grat  itude  to  t  he  author.' 
Athenceum. 

"  Piquant  by  reason  of  an  undercurrent  of  titillating  cynicism. 
Sheffield  Independent. 

"  A  charming  mixture  of  engaging  qualities." — Hearth  and  Home. 
"  Verj'  racy  and  worth  reading." — Birmingham  Gazette. 
"  It  is  a  book  pleasantly  written." — Vanity  Fair. 

"  A  fine  healthy  study  of  human  nature  under  its  nobler  aspects. 
Academy. 


299 


■li 

■  'I  ( 


ft, 


or  = 

,t 

•ing, 

tit  to 

Ten 

t- 


.for 

t 


I, 

■k- 

ge 
); 

). 

his 

wife 

y 

;hes 
lext 


Anna 
leadc 
I  had 

RLES 


v^' 


L'UH10U«   GENEALOGR^AL   MEDLEY. 
AimA(uot  Agnt 


Lieut.      Jttiiiwi— K 


Man-of-War. 
Married  Feb. 
1 784 ;  becaint.' 
MO  involved  in 
debt  and  cui 
sequent  difi 
cutties  that  h 
mutber-in-lau 
undertook  to 
clear  off  the 
liabilities  on 
his  signing   a 


a=DouglBt«,  Harriett^  1 

;  Duke  of  Pye  Ben-    B 

f  Uauilton  nett(Mi«.    ri 

:  nndBraii-  Esten),        w 


became  munageresa  of  th<? 
theatre  there,  the  Uukc  of 
Hamilton  being  putentw. 


^  all 

wife  and  two 
ohtldreQ  and 


year  during  her  illegili- 
'  mat<>  chtlds  ininoritv.  and 
'  £1500  a  year  aft4>rward«. 
Mrs.  Est^n  is  described  by 
Boaden  as  "  not  lall  hut 
graceful,  and  aware  oE  the 


months 
after  the 

ivife  Misa 
Hughes, 


Scott 
Wiring, 
Agent  to 


West 
!  1784, 


2nd  wife 

Mary 

Hughes 


=  James,  Luke  of  Hamilton. 

I  

=Jame8,  Tl 

,  Luke  of  fti 

Hamil-  Pi 


8m  WiLUA»= 
Hamilton, 
Ambassador 
at  Naples. 


Elizabeth, —James, 


=Loid  Archibald  Hamilton. 


al  Lord  Nklson,  by  v 


daughter  away.     See  also 


1  honour  of  the 
Prince  Regent,  and  next 
morning  she  was  found  ' 
at  foot  of    the   grand 


con.  againiit  the 
Duke,  but  Lord  ■ 
Kenyon  de-         , 


A  daugbtor,  married  Darby  Ann  Douglass  Hamilton,  Had   with   other   issue   :^Vnna 

Coventry,  Esq.     She   was  bom  1797;  married  1820  Maria,   married    John  Rcade 

"lovely,  amiable,  and  high-  (as  his  let   wife]    L.ord  of  Ipsdcn,  eu.  Oxon.,  and  had 

ly  accomplished"  (Kelly's     R ,  and  died  without  with     other     issue     Charlks 

"  Stage  Reminiscences ").  issue  i844.  Readk  the  novelist. 


=John  Thurlow 

Laura  Augusta  Hast- 

Miss  Uolmai 

Scott  Waring, 

mgB  Seott-Waring. 
married    Rev.     Per. 

dftu.  by  Man 

lost  a   leg   at 

Gilfert,   mu. 

Waterioo. 

ccvbI  Frye. 

Charleston   ', 

X 

1825,  managL 

^ 


n 


APPENDIX  H 

SOME  ROYAL  DESCENTS 
MATEKNALLY   AND   PATEKNALLY 

LEWIS  LE  DEBONNAIRE  (son  of  CHARLEMAGNE  by  his 
wife  Hildigaide  of  Swabia)  married  Judith  the  fair,  and  had 
CHARLES  THE  BALD  KING  OF  FRANCE  who  Married 
Hcrmcntrudc  daughter  of  VODON  EARL  OF  ORLEANS 
and  had  Judith  who  married  BALDWIN  COUNT  OF 
FLANDERS,  and  had  BALDWIN  LE  CHAUVE  COUNT 
OF  FLANDERS,  ob.  918,  who  married  ELFRIDA  daughter 
of  ALFRED  THE  GREAT  and  had  ARNULPH  COUNT 
OF  FLANDERS,  ob.  9G5,  who  married  Alisa  daughter  of 
HERBERT  COUNT  OF  VERMANDOIS,  and  had  BALDWIN 
COUNT  OF  FLANDERS,  ob.  916,  v.  p.,  who  had 
ARNULPH  COUNT  OF  FLANDERS,  ob.  988,  who  married 
ROSALIE  daughter  of  BERENGARIUS  KING  OF  ITALY  and 
had  BALDWIN  COUNT  OF  FLANDERS,  ob.  1036,  who  married 
Otigna  daughter  of  FREDERICK  COUNT  OF  LUXEM- 
BURGH,  and  had  BALDWIN  COUNT  OF  FLANDERS,  ob. 
1067,  who  married  ADELA  or  ALISA,  ob.  1079,  daughter  of 
ROBERT  THE  FIRST,  KING  OF  FRANCE,  and  had  Matilda 
who  married  WILLIAM  THE  CONQUEROR  and  had  GUN- 
DRED  who  married  WILLIAM  DE  WARREN  EARL  OF 
WARREN  AND  SURREY  and  had  WILLIAM  DE  WARREN 
EARL  OF  WARREN  AND  SURREY  who  married  Elizabeth 
daughter  of  HUGH  THE  GREAT  EARL  OF  VERMANDOIS 
and  had  Adeline  or  Ada  who  married  HENRY  created 
EARL  OF  HUNTINGTON  by  King  Stephen  and  had  Margaret 
who  married  for  her  second  husband  Huinphrey  dc  Bohun 
and  had  HENRY  DE  BOHUN  created  EARL  OF  HEREFORD, 

301 


302  OMNIANA 

1199,  ob.  1220,  who  married  lAIaud  daughter  of  GEFFREY 
EARL  OF  ESSEX  and  had  HUMPHREY  DE  BOHUN  Ex\RL 
OF  ESSEX  AND  HEREFORD  who  (went  to  the  Holy  Land 
in  1250)  married  .Aland  daughter  of  the  EARL  OF  EWE 
and  had  Humphrey  dc  Bohun  who  married  Eleanor  dc 
Breause  iireat  granddaughter  of  STROXGBOW  and  had 
HUMPHREY  DE  BOHUN  EARL  OF  ESSEX  Lord  High  Con- 
stable, ob.  1298,  who  married  Aland  daughter  of  Ingelram 
dc  Fines  and  had  HUMPHREY  DE  BOHUN  EARL  OF  ESSEX 
who  married  ELIZABETH  PLANTAGENET  and  had  Eleanor 
or  Alianor  who  married  JAMES  SECOND  EARL  OF  CARRICK 
Seventh  Butler  and  FIRST  EARL  OF  ORMONDE,  ob.  1337-8, 
and  had  JAMES  SECOND  EARL  OF  ORMONDE  who  married 
Elizabeth  daughter  of  SIR  JOHN  DARCY  by  his  wife  Joan 
daughter  of  RICHARD  DE  BURGH  EARL  OF  ULSTER  and 
had  JAMES  THIRD  EARL  OF  ORMONDE  who  married  Ann 
daughter  of  JOHN  LORD  WELLES  and  had  SIR  RICHARD 
of  Polcstown  who  married  Catherine  daughter  of  CrILDAS 
O'RIELLY  LORD  OF  CAVAN  and  had  SIR  EDWARD  BUTLER 
who  maii'ied  Catherine  O'Carroll  and  had  SIR  JAMES 
BUTLER  who  married  Sabina  Cavcnagh  and  had  PIERCE 
EICiHTH  EARL  OF  ORMONDE  who  married  Lady  Margaret 
daughter  of  GERALD  EIGHTH  EARL  OF  KILDARE  and 
had  Lady  Ellen  Butler  who  married  DONOUGH  O'BRIEN 
SECOND  EARL  OF  THOMOND   and  had  a 

SON  and  DAUGHTER 

The  son  CONNOR  O'Brien  The  daughter  the  Hon. 
THIRD  EARL  OF  THO-  Margaret  O'Brien  married 
MOND  MARRIED  Own}^c  DERMOD  SECOND  LORD 
tlaughter  of  Turlogh  Mac  INCHIQUIN  and  had  MOR- 
OBricn  Ara  and  had  ROGH  THIRD  LORD  INCH- 
DANIEL  O'BRIEN  FIRST  VLS-  QUIN  who  married  the  Hon. 
COUNT  CLARE  who  married  Anabella    or    Mabel    Nugent 


APPENDIX 


303 


the  Lady  Catherine  Fitz- 
gerald daughter  of  GERALD 
SIXTEENTH  EAPvL  OF  KIL- 
DARE  and  widow  of  Maurice 
Roach  Lord  Fermoy)  and 
had  CONNOR  O'BRIEN 
SECOND  VISCOUNT  CLARE 
who  married         Honora 

daughter  of  Daniel  O'Brien 
of  Duagh  and  had  the 
Hon.  Honora  O'Brien  who 
married  John  Fitzgerald 
KNIGHT  OE  KERRY  and  had 
Maurice  Fitzgerald  KNIGHT 
OF  KERRY  who  married 
Elizabeth  daughter  of  David 
Crosbie  of  Ardfert  and  had 
issue  Barbara  Fitzgerald  who 
married  Bastable  Herbert  of 
Brewsterfield  and  had  Arthur 
Herbert  who  married  Barbara 
daughter  of  Emanuel  Hut- 
chinson and  had  Lucinda 
Herbert  who  married  Francis 
Christopher  Bland  D.L.  of 
Derriquiu  Castle  and  had 
Fanny  Diana  Bland  who  was 
mother    of 


daughter  of  CHRISTOPHER 
NINTH  LORD  DELVIN  and 
had  MORROGH  FOURTH 
LORD  INCHIQUIN  who  mar- 
ried Margaret  daughter  of  SIR 
THOMAS  CUSACK  and  had 
DERMOD  FIFTH  LORD  IN- 
CHIQUIN who  married  Ellen 
daughter  of  SIR  EDWARD 
FITZGERALD  of  Cloyne  and 
Ballymaloo  and  had  the  Hon. 
Honora  O'Brien  who  married 
Anthony  Stoughton  and  had 
Ellen  Stoughton  who  married 
Thomas  Blenuerhassett  and 
had  Martha  Blenuerhassett 
who  married  Frederick  Mul- 
lins  of  Burnham  and  had 
William  MuUins  who  married 
Mary  Rowan  and  had  Mary 
Mullins  (eldest  sister  of  the 
first  Lord  Ventry)  who 
married  Capt.  Thomas  God- 
dard  and  had  Louisa  Goddard 
who  married  the  Rev.  John 
Blenuerhassett  (Rector  of 
Tralee)  and  had  Elizabeth 
Blenuerhassett  who  married 
Capt.  Edward  Fuller  and  had 
Thomas  Harnett  Fuller  father 
of 


JAMES  FRANKLIN  FULLER 


APPENDIX   I 

KOYAL  AND   OTHEll  DESCENTS 
PATEENALLY 

DUN'CAX  THE  FIR8T  KING  OF  SCOTLAND  was  father  of 
MALCOLM  CANMORE  KING  OF  SCOTLAND  who  married 
SAINT  MARGARET  OF  ENGLAND  and  had  DUNCAN  THE 
SECOND  KINCJ  OF  SCOTLAND  who  was  father  of  WILLIAM 
EAIIL  OF  MORAY,  PRINCE  OF  SCOTLAND,  who  married 
a  daughter  and  coheiress  of  ROBERT  DE  RUxMELI  LORD 
OF  SKIPTON  and  had  Annabella  who  married  REGINALD  DE 
LUCI  LORD  OF  EGREMONT  and  had  RICHARD  DE  LUCI  who 
married  Ada  daughter  and  coheiress  of  HUGH  DE  MOR- 
VILLE  *  and  had  Annabella  who  married  Lambert  de  Multon 
and  had  Thomas  de  Multon  of  Egremont  who  was  father  of 
THOMAS,  BARON  MULTON,  who  by  his  wife  Eleanor  had 
Elizabeth  who  married  SIR  ROBERT  HARINGTON  and  had 
SIR  ROBERT  HARINGTON  who  married  Mary  Kirkby  and  had 
SIR  JOHN  HARINGTON  who  was  father  of  SIR  JOHN  HAR- 
INGTON who  married  Agnes  daughter  of  SIR  RICHARD 
FLEETE  and  had  John  Harington  who  married  Agnes 
daughter  of  SIR  JOHN  DE  LAUNDE  and  was  father  of 
John  Harington  who  married  Catherine  daughter  of  Sir 
THOMAS  COLEPEPER  and  had  Robert  Harington  who  was 
father  of  John  Harington,  who  by  his  wife  i\lice,  daughter 
of  Henry  Southell,  was  father  of  SIR  JOHN  HARINGTON 
who  married  Elizabeth  daughter  of  Robert  Morton  and  was 

*  Uuc  of  tho  four  who  asaadsinalcd  Thomas  a  iJeckct. 
301 


APPENDIX  305 

father  of  SIR  JAAIES  HARINGTON  who  married  Lucy 
daughter  of  SIR  PHILIP  SYDNEY  of  Penshurst  and  had 
SIR  HENRY  HARINGTON  who  married  for  his  second  wife 
the  eldest  daughter  and  coheiress  of  JAMES  PILKINGTON 
BISHOP  OP  DURHAM  and  had  Ann  who  married  SIR 
THOMAS  ROPER  VISCOUNT  BALTINGLASS  and  had  Ruth 
who  married  SIR  EDWARD  DENNY  and  had  Elizabeth  who 
married  John  Blennerhassett  and  had  Ruth  who  married 
Thomas  Blennerhassett  and  had  Mary  who  married  George 
Rowan  and  had  Mary  who  married  William  Mullins  of  Burn- 
ham  and  had  Mary  Mullins  (eldest  sister  of  the  first  Lord 
Ventry)  who  married  Capt.  Thomas  Goddard  and  had  Louisa 
Goddard  who  married  the  Rev.  John  Blennerhassett  (Rector 
of  Tralee)  and  had  Elizabeth  Blennerhassett  who  married 
Capt.  Edward  Fuller  and  had  Thomas  Harnett  Fuller  father 
of  JAMES  FRANKLIN  FULLER. 


INDEX 


Adamites,  139 
Allen,  Grant,  152 
A?mnal  Register.  278 
Asgill,  John,  122 

B 

Baltinglass,  I^rd,  108 

Barry,  Mrs.,  22 

Bennett,  Mrs.,  174  seq. 

Beresford,  Capt.  George  de  la. 
Poer,  202 

Black  and  White,  169 

Blackwood's  Magazine,  161 

Bland,  Francis  C,  6 

,  Rev.  James,  6 

,  Capt.  James  Franklin,  22.  S.T 

,  Rev.  \.,  12 

Blennerhassett,  Elizabeth,  6,  21 

Browne,  Rev.  Simon,  116  ?i. 

Buckle,  H.  T..  quoted,  129 

Budd,  Dr.,  179 

Builder,  145 

Building  News,  146 

Burnel,  Nicholas  Lord,  222 

Burton's  "  Anatomv  of  Melan- 
choly," 264  «.,  267 

Butler",  Samuel,  quoted.  143,  158, 
279 

,  Sir  William,  44 


Calamy,  Dr.,  quoted,  135 
Calvert,  Charles,  76 


Carlyle.  Thomas,  164,  235 
Cattle  houghing,  17  seq. 
Cellini,  Benvenuto,  4 
Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  221 
Chudleigh,  Elizabeth,  232 
Clarke,  Samuel,  272 
Clifford,  Professor,  quoted,  129 
Colenso,  Bishop,  124 
Constitutional  Press.  91,  95 
Cook,  John  D.,  1G7 
Cornhill  Magazine,  152,  156 
Critic,  169 
Croker,  Richard,  33 
Cromwell,  Oliver,  113 


D 

Dark  Blue  Magazine,  149 
Day,  Judge,  21 
Deane,  Sir  Thomas,  42 
De  Morley,  Robert,  222 
Denny,  Ladv,  108 
De  Salis,  Cardinal,  266 
De  Saussay,  173 
Dickens,  Charles,  165 
Donegal,  Marquess  of,  88 
Doyle,  James  E.,  67 
Dwyer,  Frank,  13,  30 


E 


Easton's    '"Human    Longevity" 

quoted,  273 
Echard's  "  History  of  England  '" 

quoted,  1 13 
Eliot,  George,  165 


307 


30S 


INDEX 


Emmet,  J.  A.,  quoted,  271 
Esten,  Mrs.,  175,  178 
Exhav's    Maga-.inr    qnnted,    140, 
26")  11. 


Fashions,  2^0  seq. 
Fitzgibbon,  Lord  Justice,  20l> 
Forl/ii(jhfI>/  Reviev,  92 
Froudo,  J.  A..  123 
Fuller,  (Catherine,  21 

,  Capt.  Edward,  6,  21 

,  John,  35 

,  Samuel,  16 

,  Dr.  Thomas,  105  f!pq.,  270 

,  Thomas  H.,  25  sec/. 

,  William,  5,  16,  215 


G 


Garibaldi,  S9 

Oentlfmnn'.i  Magazinr,  176 

Gildea,  Capt.,  90 

Goddard,  Capt.  Thomas,  6,  162 

Godwin,  E.  W.,  203 

,  George,  145 

Gosse,  Edmund.  28 
Graves,  Dr.  Charles,  GO 
Gregg,  Rev.  Tresham,  123 
Grosvenor,  Sir  Robert,  220 


H 


Hadfield,  Mr.,  87 
Hales,  Rev.  John,  quoted,  142 
Halsbury,  Lord,  268 
Hamilton,  Emma.  Ladj',  179 
Harcourt,  Sir  William, "280 
Hartley,  Colonel,  10 
Hcatherington,  John,  233 
Helps,  Sir  Arthur,  59,  66  ?i.,  164 

quoted,  286 
Herbert,  Lucy,  6 
Heylin,  Dr.  Peter,  106 


Ho}J)es,    Thomas,    266 ;     quoted, 

125?;. 
Home,  R.  H.,  174 
Hullah,  John.  68 
Humbert,  General.  21 
Huxlev,  T.  H.,  quoted,  124 
Hyde,' Arthur,  24,  41 
,  Frederick,  27 


lUuFt(mteil  London  Neivs,  89 
Irish  EcclesiaMiral  Gazette,  119 


Jetferies,  Richard,  162 
Jermyn,  John,  9 
Jenold,  Douglas,  65 
Jones.  Horace,  80 

,  Mr.,  of  Cl^-tha,  224 

Joyce,  Dr.,  9 


K 

Keogh,  Colonel,  201 
Kingsley,  Charles,  126,  128 


L 


La  :\Iotte  le  Vayer,  173,  275 

Lawder.  Rev..  201 

Leckv.  W.  E.  H.,  155  ;  quoted, 

129 
I^itrim,  3rd  Lord,  211 
L' Estrange,  Sir  Roger,  quoted,  1 
Lewes,  Charles  Lee,  quoted,  177 

,  George  Henry,  164,  235 

Lightfoot,  Dr.,  120 
Lindsay,  Colonel,  113 
Linton,  Mrs.  Lynn,  152,  168 
Longevit}',  255  seq. 
Lucas,  Rev.,  200 
Luttrell,  Colonel,  232 


INDEX 


309 


]\l 


McCarthy,  Daniel,  265 

,  Denis  R,  143 

McKenzie,  Sir  (George,  121 
Malone,  I\Ir.  Justice,  20 
IManning,  Cardinal,  126 
Martin.  Archdeacon,  123 
IMather.    Rev.     Cotton,     quoted, 

136 
Meredith,  George,  quoted,  167 
Moriarty,  Dr.,  62 

.  Teige,  16 

■\Iowbray,  Regrave  and  Stourton, 

Lord,  6  V. 
Murphy,  James,  32 
Murseli,  Rev.  Ai-thur,  85,  86  n. 


N 


Neville,  Sir  Paul,  229 

Newcastle,  Margaret,  Duchess  of, 

quoted,  263 
Newman,  Cardinal,  126 

,  F.  W.,  127 

Nicholas,  Sir  Harris,  221 


O 


Oncp  n  Week,  148 


Paine,  T.,  quoted,  110,  138 
Palmerston,  Viscount,  130 
Parker,  J.  W..  Jr.,  68.  165,  167 

,  Rev.  Theodore,  128 

Paul,  Kegan.  159 
Payn,  James,  151 
Pearson,  Sir  Charles,  44 
Phelps,  Dr.,  68 
Pilkington,  Bishop,  108 
Powell,  Jane.  179 
Power,  Frank,  207 


Proclamation   by  Lord   Lieut,  of 

Ireland,  17 
Pye,  Admiral.  175 


R 

Robins.  Rev.  Arthur,  95,  96 

,  Cieorge,  96 

Roper,  Hon.  j\Iary,  108 

Ross,    R-ev.    Alexander,    c[uoted, 

140,  141 
Round,  Dr.  J.  H.,  251 
Ruskin,  John,  22S 
Russell,  Lord  John.  130 
,  Sir  W.  H.,  91 


S 

Satvrdajj  Reriev,  166  seq. 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  quoted,  286 
Scrope,  Sir  Richard,  220 
Sewell.  Dr.  William,  123 
Sim,  Dr.,  136 
Smith,  Alexander,  170 

,  Professor  T.  R.,  81 

Stanhope,  3rd  Earl,  225 
Stephen,  Sir  Leslie,  156,  quoted,  129 
Sullivan,  Sir  Edward,  156 


Taylor,  John,  quoted,  262 
Thackeray,  W.  ]\r..  quoted.  236 
Times,  quoted,  233 
Toplady,  Rev.  Augustus,  121 
Tree,  Sir  Herbert,  251 
Trencli,  Archbishop,  117 
Truth,  149 
Tuer,  Andre\\',  160 


V 


Vanity  Fair,  98 

Von  Hoensbroech,  Count,  quoted, 

112  n. 
Voysey,  Rev.  Charles,  124 


310 


INDEX 


w 

Ward,  Mrs.  Humphry.  250 
Waterhonse,  Alfred,  81 
Welsh.  Fatlier,  r^9  scq. 
Wesley,  Rev.  John,  271 
Whirlwind,  The,  28."i 
Wilberforoe   Bishop,  124 


Wilkinson.  Captain.  219 
Wolseley,  Txird,  4^ 
Words,  misuse  of,  247  Sfq. 
Wvnn,  Hon.  Rowland.  203 


Yates,  Edmund.  2.3.5 


THE    END 


PRINTKl)  BY  WILLIAM  CLOWES  AND  SONS,  LIMITED,  LONDON  AND  BECCLES. 


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000  040  234     7 


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